


Your Left Hand Man

by littlemismatchedteacup



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Neither Jody nor Jimmy were the adulterers), F/M, Widowers, awkward Speed dating, death of spouses, discussion of a character that passed away from cancer, discussion of past adultery, miscommunication as a plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6780898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemismatchedteacup/pseuds/littlemismatchedteacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having lost both her husband and her son in a tragic accident four years ago, Sheriff Jody Mills has finally built a new life for herself and her adopted daughter Alex in the town of Sioux Falls. Then life decides it's not yet done with Jody, and throws her one more curve ball in the form of stunningly handsome single father Jimmy Novak. Charmingly awkward, unexpectedly witty, and with eyes that make a girl want to sit up and beg, Jimmy just might be the type of man that'll make Jody reconsider her previous dedication to her single status. But where Jody has learned to live with her loss, Jimmy still finds himself mired in his own tragic past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, the way this fic came about is that after finishing up Jimmy's story in Nine of a Kind, I couldn't stop thinking about what would have happened had he stayed with the Winchesters, and long story short I eventually realized that if Jody Mills were to ever stop by the bunker, she and Jimmy could very well discover they actually had quite a few things in common. Of course, all lot can change from brain to paper, and Your Left Hand Man is very much Jody's story, set in it's own universe that could bring these two together. I hope you will all be willing to give it a chance and fall in love with Jody/Jimmy as much as I did.
> 
> Endless love to my artist kuwlshadow, who is not only immensely talented but also incredibly generous with her time, and I was very fortunate to be paired up with her for the Rare Pair Big Bang. You should all definitely check out her tumblr!
> 
> Another thing, small parts of this were written at 1 in the morning, so there's every chance I could come back and makes some edits at a later date.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                Sheriff Jody Mills stares into the abyss, and the abyss stares back. And it’s informing her that there’s a sale on baked goods. Buy two banana nut muffins, get a blueberry one free.

               _That’s the thing about grocery stores_ , Jody thinks to herself as she pushes her cart carefully through the crowded aisles of the local Fareway, white-knuckling it while she dodges both wayward munchkins with sticky hands that have slipped their parents’ leashes to run amok, and elderly biddies that seem to have forgotten it isn’t socially acceptable to leave your bag of kumquats in the middle of the aisle. _Entering one anytime between the earliest hours of the morning and the last hour before closing is nothing short of a suicide run._

               This mess of humanity right here? This is why she left her .40 Glock and standard-issue Taser at home. Too much temptation.

               But this last week has been a busy one down at the Sioux Falls County Sheriff’s Department, the kind of week where that instant coffee crap in the breakroom just won’t cut it. Five straight late nights of carting intoxicated jackasses down to the drunk tank, three humid afternoons dully spent at two different speed traps, one memorable incident involving a naked man and a stolen goat that had been the talk of the water cooler, wrapping it all up with a visit to at a local elementary school’s inquisitive kindergarten class for a career day presentation (Although Jody had gotten off easy with that one; it was Victor who’d pulled the short straw and had been forced to wear the McCurt the Felony Canine Suit). Add all that to a mountain of paperwork that was way overdue and it’s no surprise that when Jody finally made it home to her small cabin on the outskirts of town earlier that evening she’d promptly passed out on the slightly-sagging plaid couch without so much as shedding off her jacket or holster.

               Unfortunately, extra hours of sleep are a rare commodity when living in a household with a moody teenager skulking around, more precious than water in a desert and twice as rare, and Jody’s already short supply of luck had just run out.

               “ _There’s no food in the fridge.”_

_Emitting a soft groan, Jody just barely managed to squint one eye open to make out the bleary figure looming above her, its arms crossed against its chest._

_“What’s that?” she asked, although with her face squished up into the couch cushion as it was, it came out garbled, more like “Wazat?”_

_“No. Food.” Alex enunciated each mono-syllable word slowly and precisely, like she thought Jody was being purposely slow. “I’m starving,” she added, as though extra clarification was needed (it wasn’t), and it’s amazing how much drama can be packed into two flatly spoken words._

_“There is too food,” Jody shot back, now a little more aware of what was going on. “There’s . . . things in the fridge._ Edible _things.”_

_“The milk’s gone sour, the bread had mold on it, and the only thing half decent is your gross old lady cereal,” Alex corrected in that same bored tone, although now there’s a touch of exasperation. “Social services requires you to provide me with actual meals, you know.” She stuck out her hand. “Can I have money for a pizza?”_

_And oh . . .  oooh, it had been so tempting to toss Alex her wallet so Jody could slump back into the couch and slip into a week-long coma, but they’d had McDonald’s last night, and Chinese takeout the night before that, and Taco Bell the night before_ that . . .

_Achy joints protesting, Jody forced herself vertical, eyes still glued shut, groaning at the effort it took. Goddamn, but she was getting old, older than she’d like to admit. “No, no. That won’t be necessary. I’ll just-just-just –” She yawned widely enough for her jaw to click before continuing. “Just swing by the store and grab a few things.” She mentally ran through the very short list of recipes she could cook from memory. “How does spaghetti and meatballs sound?”_

_“Fantastic,” Alex replied, lips curled into a sneer. “If you’re five and still eat with your fingers. Why don’t you just give me a sippy cup and be done with it?”_

_“Sure. Do you want the green one with the stars or the one with the dinosaurs, ‘cause I’ve got both!” Jody fired back, her exhaustion allowing her already short temper to momentarily get the best of her._

_Alex’s eyes narrowed in response, her mouth thinning, and Jody immediately regretted the lapse of control. What the hell was she doing? She was the one who was the adult here, the role model, the parent. It fell upon her to always be capable of taking the high road - even when Alex’s continued belligerence over the most trivial of matters made Jody want to ground the girl until she graduated from college._

_“Alex, I’m sorry –” Jody tried, but Alex’s expression was already closing in on itself, hardening, like she hadn’t expect anything less than a sharp rebuff for the simple request of food. It was a painful reminder about the kind of home Alex came from, the kind of home that Jody would not allow to fester under her roof. It was that reminder, more than anything, that had her making the following rash decision._

_“Tell you what,” Jody bargained, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes and mustering up a bit of cheerfulness from the deepest crevices of her reserves, “we’ll have that nice lemon chicken we saw on the Food Channel last week. Now, how does_ that _sound?”_

_If possible, Alec looked even more disdainful and unimpressed. “Sounds like you don’t trust a juvie rat with your wallet.”_

_Jody groaned in exasperation, and if she wasn’t so goddamn tired, maybe she could have come up with something better than, “Alex, you_ know _that isn’t it what I meant –”_

_“Yeah, whatever. Try not to burn anything,” Alex cut her off, turning away in a swish of mahogany hair before Jody could call her back, already fishing through her pocket for her cellphone as she stalked off to her room. Or whatever dank, dark cave it is that teenagers reside._

_“You’ll thank me when you’re older and not the size of a house!” Jody called after her, but the only answer she received was the slam of a bedroom door echoing through the house. The moment she was alone Jody threw her head back with a sigh that quickly dovetailed into a groan, her hand flying to her forehead. “Damnit,” she swore with much enthusiasm._

_Parenting. Turns out it was not at all like riding a bike. Hard to believe Jody used to be pretty darn good at it._

_Promising a nutritious, home-cooked meal was all well and good. It was the actual cooking that was going to prove tricky; unfortunately, Alex’s jibe about burning meals hadn’t been entirely off-base after all. During her single years before Alex, Jody had become a firm believer in the Church of Boston Market, and the road to getting back on a routine of home cooked meal had proven . . . difficult, to say the least. A road paved with dry chicken and “interesting” culinary experiments that would have made an iron chef cry._

_Jody sighed again, rubbing at her forehead, more than a little annoyed with herself now. Really, this was a little ridiculous – she’d had nine years of marriage under her belt before she gained custody of Alex and took her in, why hadn’t she picked up a thing here or there?_

               This is what you get for marrying a man for his cooking _, she thought to herself, half in self-deprecating humor, half in a grief that had dulled over the years to an irregular pulse of pain, only making itself known when she scratched at it. Her gaze strayed absently to her left hand. The ring may be gone, tucked away in a small box in the bedside table, but the fond memories remained, even if her husband and son did not._

_Jody shook herself inwardly to cast the cobwebs of old ghosts, bringing herself back to the matter at hand. Cooking for Alex was more than just making sure she was eating properly. It was about showing her she had a place in Jody’s home, that it was her home now too, and that she’ll always have a place inside it for as long as she wants it._

_Jody sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time, pulling out her cell with much reluctance. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”_

_Bracing herself, Jody punched in 2 on her speed dial and waited, the dial tone ringing ominously in her ear._

_Unfortunately, the wait wasn’t nearly long enough._

_“Hello?” a voice welcomed, bubbly and overly perky like a Walmart greeter who’s just a little too dedicated to the job. “Hanscum residence, can I ask who’s calling? And if it’s you people calling about that timeshare in Bora Bora, well, I’ve already told you before – I don’t give a hoot if I can get it half off, no means no, and if you call again, I’ll  –”_

_“No, no, Donna, it’s me – Jody!” Only Donna wouldn’t think to check her phone’s caller ID before answering._

_Over the line, Donna’s voice instantly brightens back to its original intensity. “Oh, hey, Jody-roo! Sooo, what’cho up to at this hour, lady?”_

_Jody rubs a hand nervously over her knee, her teeth gritted in a grimace. She loves Donna – no, honestly, she does – but sometimes Donna is the Energizer bunny to Jody’s used battery lying forgotten under a couch somewhere. “Oh, nothing much. Same old, same old . . . So hey, listen, I know this is sudden and everything, but any chance you’re free right now?”_

_“Oh, you know I’ve always got time for my best gal! So,” she says, and there’s a crunching sound over the line like she’s munching on a potato chip, “what’s the dealio?”_

And that’s the overly complicated story of how Jody ended up in her civilian clothes at the grocery store at 8 o’clock on a Friday night, pushing along a shopping cart with enough food to feed a small nation for a day, while her semi-insane neighbor/co-worker/best friend disappears for minutes at a time, only to return with armfuls of food to throw into the ever-growing mountain in Jody’s cart ( _What do you mean, you don’t buy for the week?_ Donna had exclaimed, shocked, like Jody was the crazy one. Then she’d given Jody a pitying look and patted her on the arm, smiling kindly as she said, _I think you better let me handle this one_ ).

               _And speak of the devil_ , Jody thinks wryly when Donna seems to materialize from somewhere between the cereal aisle and a display of paper towels.  “That doesn’t look local and organic,” Jody observes neutrally, eyeing the box of pink icing-frosted donuts Donna furtively slips into the cart like she thinks Jody won’t notice.

               Donna chuckles haltingly, a very un-Donna-like sound, her answering smile weak. Jody can practically smell the guilt wafting off her. “Pay ya back?” It’s only when Jody continues to stare her down that Donna caves, shoulders slumping and her face taking on a pinched, unhappy look. “It’s not what it looks like – I swear, I’m not falling off the wagon, I’m still sticking to my diet and my Crossfit. It’s just . . .” A stricken look crosses her face, and the words spill out. “I sort of accidentally went on Doug’s Facebook page today.’’

               “Ah, jeez,” Jody groans, resisting the urge to palm her face. “Donna –”

               “I couldn’t help myself!” Donna exclaims, now clearly distraught. “He shared a link to an interesting article on dairy cows, and then I looked through his wall to see what else there was and then . . . I found some pictures. Of him – and a girl. He’s seeing some new hot thing down in Duluth.” Donna looks at Jody with sad puppy dog eyes, her face becoming, if possible, even glummer. “They’re taking a trip to Branson together in July . . . Doug had always promised to take me,” she explains, her gaze taking on a wistful look. “But, well, you already know how that story goes.”

               Jody sends a silent prayer that it’s a good thing she’s never come face-to-face with Donna’s douchey ex-husband, because he would have walked away from the encounter with distinctly less dangly bits than he’d had before. “I thought the point of moving all the way from Minnesota to South Dakota was to get over your dick of an ex,” Jody points out, trying for casual and not judgmental, though if the sheepish look on Donna’s face is any indication, she missed the mark.  

               “No, no – I know you’re right,” Donna says quickly, still woebegone, shaking her head a bit and scrunching up her face, and it hurts Jody to have to watch Donna pull herself together, piece by piece. “Shouldn’t let that poop stick get to me. I’m just –” She surreptitiously dabs at her eyes, and Jody politely adverts her gaze. “Just being silly, I guess.”

               Jody feels herself softening with sympathy, and she reaches out to squeeze Donna’s shoulder. “Alright, here’s the deal.” She taps a finger against the package of donuts. “Promise me you’ll unfriend that weasel tonight – _tonight_ – and you can keep the donuts.”

              Donna’s eyes shine with gratitude. “Thanks, Jody. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that,” she says, somewhat bashfully. “I sure do owe you one.”

              “Naaah. You’re already doing me one helluva favor.” Jody nods down at her cart, and it gives her an idea. “Hey, you know what?” She taps at the box of doughnuts again. “How about you go grab a box for me? You know – cop perks.” She grins conspiratorially, and even though she’s already dreading looking at the scale tomorrow, it’s worth it just to see Donna practically beam at her.

              “Don’t think I don’t see right through you, Jody Mills,” Donna says with a conspiratorial look, gently poking Jody in the shoulder. “I know you like to pretend you’re all _rough and gruff_ on the outside, but I know you’re really melted chocolate on the inside.”

               Jody rolls her eyes and feigns annoyance. “Yeah, yeah, say it a little louder, why don’t you? I don’t think the whole store heard you. Now, get my doughnuts.”

              “Okie doakie, Sheriff. You start heading to the check-out – I’ll catch up with you in two shakes.” And with that Donna’s off again, disappearing into the aisles.

               Shaking her head in bemusement, Jody circles the cart around (which takes quiet the effort, given how heavy it has become by this point) around, making her way towards the front of the store. Careful not to knock over the poorly constructed pyramid of off-brand toilet paper, Jody pushes her cart into the opening of the feminine hygiene aisle, absently calculating if she needs to pick up anything for her and Alex or if they’re set . . . until her attention catches on the lone solitary figure standing incongruously in the middle of the aisle, giving her pause.

 _Oh now there’s a rather tragic scene_ , she thinks in amusement to herself once she works out what’s going on.

               “Need any help there?” Jody calls out to the man in the rumpled blue sweater and dark hair, inwardly cringing when she realizes she sounds too much like her ‘Friendly Neighborhood Sheriff” persona despite being off the clock. It’s a habit that’s been greeted with eyerolls and exasperated sighs from Alex whenever they’re out in public together, so Jody’s recently made a point to act like a _normal freaking person_ for her adopted daughter’s sake (except when for when she’s peeved Jody off somehow, then Jody cranks her cop voice up to eleven).

               Startling like Jody had stuck him with a fork, the man turns around from where he’d been gaping open-mouthed at the endless stacked shelves of tampons and pads, hair mussed like he’s been running his hands through it in frustration. His bewildered expression doesn’t change when he sees Jody, though she definitely detects a flicker of chagrin.

               “I – I’m sorry?”

               “No, it’s just – I was just saying you look at little lost,” Jody offers up lamely, edging her cart beside him. She finds her smile slipping when he continues to stare at her uncomprehendingly like she’s some kind of nutcase, and it’s only when she unsubtly jerks her head in the direction of the dreaded unmentionables that he seems to snap back to himself.

               “Oh! Yes, I . . . this –” He waves vaguely in the direction of the shelves – “usually isn’t my job.” A delicate shade of pink suddenly blooms on his face and he blurts out, “ _These_ – these aren’t for me, of course. Obviously. These are for my daughter. Usually she gets them, but Claire’s tied up with soccer practice right now and she asked me to swing by after work. But the problem is she didn’t tell me what kind she likes and I can’t reach her on her phone and _there’s just so many_ and here I am babbling like a lunatic to a complete stranger.” He clams up abruptly, shooting Jody a worried side-look. “I swear I’m not always such a human disaster.”

               “Of course,” Jody says with what she hopes is reassuring indifference, fiercely stomping down the amused smile that wants to make an appearance. “Mom got tied-up with work?” she guesses.

               He gives her a guarded look that Jody can’t quite decipher, then lets loose an odd, strangled noise that might be a laugh – if a laugh can sound like it’s been kicked in the balls. “I . . . yeah. Yeah, something like that. . . .”

               Despite his inscrutable response it’s clear that Jody has just accidently trod on a sensitive subject that is most definitely _none of her business_ , but before she can wildly backtrack the man has already gone back to staring at the wall of pads and tampons with a rather tremulous expression, looking like someone that’s just been asked to play Russian roulette. “Seriously,” he says, almost indignant, “how can there be so _many_?”

               Jody bites the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. It’s not that she’s laughing _at_ him, per se, but there is something rather amusing to be found in all this, this odd man and his disheveled yet devoted brand of parenting. If she were drunk, she might even call his deer-caught-in-the-highbeams-of-a-semi look _endearing_. “Well, at least you’re trying for her. Your daughter, I mean,” she clarifies unnecessarily. “Most men I know pitch a fit at the mere mention of tampons.”

               “No, it’s not that. I swear I’m not one of those guys that gets grossed out over a woman’s natural bodily functions. It’s just that –” He sighs heavily, turning his attention back to her, and it’s only then that Jody notices how incredibly _blue_ his eyes are – “I don’t want . . .  I _can’t_ get this wrong, you know?”

                “She’s counting on you,” Jody surmises after a moment, instantly feeling a sort of kinship with this rather oddly charming man. She smiles ruefully, nodding at her stuffed-to-the-brim shopping cart. “I can sorta relate.”

               “I’m her dad. Looking out for her is my job.” He shrugs modestly, and although his smile is boyish, crow’s feet fan out at the corners of his eyes, enough to make Jody wonder if he’s older than she’d initially thought. They’re so fine that Jody could reach out and trace them with her finger, down to the ridge of his high cheek bones and across the sharp cut of his sculpted jaw, and wow, what an awkward time to realize Mr. Dad here isn’t exactly hard on the eyes. One could even dare call him _gorgeous_ if one were so inclined – not that Jody is, of course, certainly not, although it does make her wonder just what else is hiding beneath that rumpled tax accountant surface. While Jody’s definitely not still staring he turns back to examine the intimidating wall of feminine hygiene products and picks up at random a package that’s a frankly embarrassing shade of pink. “Maybe this one . . .?” he mutters hesitantly, more to himself than her.

               Inwardly shaking off that inexplicable bout of madness, Jody takes a peek over his shoulder. It’s overnight pads, heavy flow. _Oh, boy._

               “Here, let’s just put these back and forget we ever saw them,” Jody says briskly, deciding it’s well past time she took pity on the poor man. “There we go . . . Alright, first things first. Does she prefer pads or tampons?”

                His only answer to that is an articulate, “Uhhh . . . not tampons, maybe?”

                Jody swallows the urge to sigh. Men. Honestly. Reaching up on her toes, Jody grabs the brand Alex uses. “Here, then. You said she played soccer? Take the active wear. Best to hedge your bets and go with both. She might end up only using the one, and if that happens, well, nothing wrong with having spares in the house in case of emergencies.”

               Although Jody has a sneaking suspicion that she could have spoken in Farsi for all the good it would have done, he takes the packages from her hands all the same, staring back at Jody in awe. “Oh, my god. You . . . are a _lifesaver_ ,” he breathes emphatically. “I just – _thank you_.”

               “Always happy to help,” Jody waves away his apology, a little unnerved (re: absolutely _mortified_ ) to find there’s a hint of a blush creeping up her face. With that she figures her work here is done and she can just leave him to it, and this odd little meeting will just be a story she’ll get to share with Donna later: the Hot Dad in the feminine hygiene aisle.

               But before she can make her quick escape and not make a bigger fool of herself than she already has, the man asks her, oh-so conversationally, “So I guess you have kids, too, huh?”

               She hesitates for only a moment before responding, “Yep. Sure do,” trying and failing not to beam in pride. She decides not to bother correcting him on the plural. Even when she lost Owen, it never felt like she stopped being a mom, and although she loves Alex like she’s her own biological child, she isn’t her first child’s replacement. “I’ve got a teenage daughter as well, so I too know the trials and tribulations,” she says with mock severity.

               When the man chuckles in commiseration, his nose scrunches, his smile wide and gummy. “Ah, a fellow indentured servant! I should have recognized you by your ball and chain.” He leans in conspiratorially, like they’re about to share a secret, and Jody can smell his aftershave. Something woodsy, like pine, with a hint of cinnamon. She finds herself unconsciously swaying closer before she remembers herself. “Don’t you just miss the years you could get away with putting them in Time Out?”

               Jody shrugs with a nonchalance she doesn’t quiet feel. “I wouldn’t know. I adopted Alex – what was it, six months ago? – so I missed the Terrible Two’s and all.”

               "Wow, really? That's amazing," he says, seeming to actually mean it. Over the months, Jody has learned how to sniff out the insincere ones, the people who tell her how 'brave' she is to take into her home a child that's nearly an adult, all while secretly wondering what must be wrong with her to have adopted instead of giving birth to her own. "Well, I can say from experience that you dodged one hell of a bullet then. Skipped right past the poopy diaper years and watching Milo and Otis  _ad infinitum."_

               It's clear he means it as a harmless joke, but Jody finds herself stifling a wince, thinking of how those early years were the only years she had with Owen, same as the older years are the only ones she'll get with Alex, if Alex even allows her to have them. “Can I be honest with you? I'd give anything to have had the poopy diaper years with her. I just wish, I dunno . . . that I could have been there to protect her."

               She'd thought she'd played that pretty casual and unaffected, but something must have still given her away, judging by the way his eyes widen and his face pales. "I - god, I'm sorry, I wasn't even thinking," he says earnestly. "Me and my big dumb mouth - I didn't mean to insinuate -"

               "Don't worry, I know you didn't." Slightly embarrassed, Jody gives herself a little shake to pull herself from her thoughts, glancing sheepishly up at him with an apologetic grin. “Sorry, got a bit carried away with my thoughts there. Usually I don't emote all over the tampon aisle.”

               "It's fine. All it does is show how much you love her,” he says, looking down at her, expression soft. “Very much so, if my guess if correct.”

               Jody snorts, though the sounds is fond more than anything. “Come ask me that again when she leaves food to collect mold in her room, or when she sneaks out in the middle of the night to have a cigarette and then lies straight to my face when I ask why her clothes smell like smoke.”

              “Well, that’s just teenagers being teenagers, isn’t it?” he says mildly, scratching at his jaw where the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow show. “It's practically hardwired into their DNA to know how to push your boundaries; you just gotta know when to give in a little and when to stand firm." 

               Jody hums, pursing her lips. “Yeah, that and I can install locks on her windows.” He barks a startled laugh, loud enough to draw the attention of several nosy shoppers who go back to pretending like they were eavesdropping on the Sheriff and the mysterious new stranger when Jody gives them a sharp look. He has a pleasant laugh, Jody notes almost reluctantly, as it’s beginning to seem as though there’s nothing about this man that isn’t attractive. “Hey, all I’m saying is that a little insurance never hurt anyone one, and it sure as hell didn’t get anyone knocked up at sixteen.”

               “There is that,” he concedes, and although his pale pink lips are still stretched in a grin, a shadow passes over his eyes. “Claire’s, uh . . . Claire’s being going through something of a rough patch, too. We just moved into town back in March, and life’s been pretty hectic for the last few months. Not that life back home had been much bett-”

               He stops abruptly like he said something he shouldn’t have, coughing obtrusively to cover the awkward pause.  Jody doesn’t have to be a cop to know there’s a story behind those words, and a pretty heavy one if his troubled face and downcast eyes are any indication, but for once, Jody holds her tongue. “That explains why I haven’t seen you around these parts before,” she says instead, steering the conversation for hopefully safer waters. “Where were you and your family from originally, if you don’t mind me being nosy?”

               She asks the last part only half-jokingly, but he doesn’t seem bothered by her potentially invasive questions. On the contrary, his face clears as he smiles, huffing a wry laugh. “Pontiac, Illinois. Even smaller than Sioux Falls, if you can believe it.”

              She whistles lowly. "That’s quite the relocation. What, are you secretly in witness protection?” she jokes in an exaggerated whisper, leaning in closer than she probably should have. Her moment of boldness pays off when his low chuckle rumbles in her ear.

              “Oh, nothing quite that interesting,” the man assures her. “My brother lives in town, near Hartford. He and his boyfriend had extra space in their house and kindly allowed us to stay until I can find a place of our own.”

              “Oh, yeah, Hartford, I’m out that way sometimes,” Jody casually tosses out, matter-of-factly, momentarily forgetting she forgot to mention she’s a cop beforehand.

              “Really?” His eyes crinkle as he gazes hopefully at Jody in a way that makes her insides do a sort of spastic jig. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and see you around . . .?”

               "Sure. I mean, who else is gonna save your bacon next time you need to buy tampons?" she jokes, completely oblivious, and it's only as she watches his face fall slightly that it belatedly hits her what he'd actually been asking. "Oh!  _Oh_! I mean, uhhh . . ." Mortified, her face grows so hot so quickly it's a miracle -Jody doesn't burst into flames where she stands. She knows she's been out of the game for a while, but for crying out loud, when did she become so obtuse?

               Completely caught off-guard and tongue-tied, Jody can only stutter out, “Well, I don’t – that is to say I, uhhh –”

               " _Jody_! There you are, girl! Been looking everywhere for you!"

               Jody abruptly clams up and looks to see Donna making her way towards them, a look of relief on her face, and Jody can't decide if this interruption is a blessing or an unwelcome intrusion. The conflicting rush of relief and irritation and embarrassment she feels certainly doesn't help, just gives her a heady case of emotional whiplash. Biting her lip, she sneaks a look at the man beside her just in time to see him take a deliberate step back from Jody, putting a distance between them more appropriate for two relative strangers. Jody would frown at him if she weren’t under the hawk-eyed scrutiny of one Donna Hanscum.

               “Why aren't you at the checkout yet? You don't want to still be in this goshforsaken store at midnight, do you - oh! Well.  _Hello there_ ," Donna says in a breathy voice when he catches sight of the dark-haired man, who blinks owlishly back at her, clearly never having encountered Donna brand of pep that could double as a force of nature. Patting at her own hair distractedly, Donna stage-whispers to Jody, "Who’s your handsome friend, Jodio?”

               Still feeling a little dazed, Jody gestures at her 'friend,' who is now smirking at her with unmasked glee, mouthing,  _Jodio?_   Her glare promises violent death if he dares say a word. "Oh, him? This is, uh . . ." It's with a terrible wave of mortification that it dawns on Jody that they've been talking for well over twenty minutes and she hadn't once asked for his name.

                He must realize this the same time as Jody does, because he swoops in for the rescue before Donna can notice Jody’s hesitance.

                "Jimmy Novak," he says, offering Donna his hand to shake and effectively coming to Jody’s rescue. "We were just discussing the pros and cons of certain brands of feminine hygiene, although your friend certainly outclasses me." He meets Jody gaze long enough to slyly wink at her. 

               “Hiya, I’m Donna. Good to see you've already met my good friend Jody. She’s single,” she adds in the same breath.

               “Donna – I – You don’t –” Jody squawks indignantly, feeling cheated that a bolt lightning won’t just strike her down and end her misery. A part of her disconnected to the horror of the moment wonders if this is what Alex feels when Jody displays what her adopted daughters calls _unnecessary displays of parental enthusiasm_.

               “She also likes Italian restaurants that don’t skimp on the Parmesan and will always insist on paying half,” Donna hints none-too-subtly at a visibly amused Jimmy, eyebrows wiggling spastically on her forehead. “Want my advice? _Humor her_.”

               “What are you – my press agent now?” Jody mutters mutinously, but both of them ignore her.

                “Really? Good to know. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Jimmy glances at Jody, blue eyes twinkling, and she resists the urge to stick her tongue at him. As though he can read her mind, his shit-eating grin only grows, completely unrepentant. But then he sighs, gesturing down at the packages in his hands. “I . . . hope you ladies don’t think I’m being rude, but if I don’t get these home soon, I might have a revolt on my hands. Trust me, it won’t be pretty.”

                “Aww, no, really? So soon?” Donna asks, _tsk_ ing. “Well, that is just a crying shame. And here we all were, just getting friendly with each other –”

                "Yeah, we were, but it’s fine. Donna and I gotta be heading out, too," Jody jumps in quickly, giving Donna a meaningful look before her meddling friend can offer to give Jimmy a lift or - God forbid - invite him over to dinner. Donna makes a face that clearly conveys what she thinks of Jody turning tail, but she dutifully plays along anyways.

                 “It was, uh . . . good to meet you - Jimmy," Jody tacks on haphazardly at the end there, because yeah, Mr. Hot Dad has a name now. "Hope Claire likes 'em." She sticks out her hand for an awkward handshake before losing her nerve at the last moment and instead grabs some random item off the shelves, tossing it into her cart without so much as a glance at the package.

                Out of the corner of her eye, Jody catches Donna hiding a smile behind her hand.

                "O-oh, um, okay." Jimmy fumbles at Jody's abrupt dismissal, frowning in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy, shoulders slumping by a fraction. "Yeah, I'll just be . . . on my way, then." He pulls himself together for a moment, giving Donna a polite but strained smile. "Donna, it was nice to meet you. Jody . . ." His face softens by a smidgen when he turns to her, and his gratitude is unmistakably ingenuous when he says, "Thanks for coming to my rescue. I've never been more glad to be stopped by a random stranger in a grocery store. Usually, it's the exact opposite,” he jokes lightly, before continuing seriously, “If everyone else is Sioux Falls is half as friendly you, I think Claire and I will be just fine." 

                 Jody lets herself thaw out by degrees, and when she smiles, she can actually feel it. "Happy to be of service." 

                 Body half-turned away, Jimmy hesitates like he wants to say something more, but whatever it is he apparently thinks better of it, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows the words down. He nods at them once, a dejected dip of his head, and then he’s swiftly turning on his heel, making to leave like he can’t escape fast enough.

 _Oh, screw it_ , Jody thinks. She takes a step forward, diving headfirst into insanity.

               “Jimmy, hold up a sec!” she calls out, forcing the words past her heart where it's lodged uncomfortably in her throat. When he spins around like he was waiting for her command, expression openly hopeful, it gives Jody the courage she needs to choke out in a steady voice she doesn’t feel, “If your luck holds, you might just see me around.”

                Jimmy gets the underlying message, if his blinding smile is anything to go by. “I look forward to it!” he calls back, immediately turning endearingly sheepish when he realizes his response may have been a tad over exuberant for a crowded grocery store, if the disapproving glares he’s garnered from a pair of iron-haired ladies in hot pink track suits are any indication. Still smiling, he gives a little wave goodbye before turning back around, and just like that he’s gone.

               A hand whips up to take hold of Jody’s sleeve. “What,” Donna breathes, like she’s just witnessed a miracle of God, “was _that_?”

               Jody’s gotta hand it to Donna; she lasted a whole three seconds longer than she thought she would.

               "What was what?" Jody asks innocently as she goes back to her cart, playing dumb because it’s no fun if she just gives Donna what she wants without making her work for it first.

               “ _That_!” Donna jabs a finger repeatedly in the direction Jimmy just exited, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet like a preschooler on a sugar rush. “That tall drink of water you’ve apparently been canoodling with in the tampons aisle for the last quarter hour.” She glances over her shoulder, though Jimmy is long gone, sighing wistfully. “You can’t tell me that isn’t a man you wouldn’t just slather up with chocolate syrup and lick every inch.”

               Although she takes offense to Donna’s use of the term _canoodling_ , Jody says airily, “Oh, that? You heard him. That was Jimmy.” She starts pushing the cart briskly towards the checkout lanes, Donna having no trouble keeping pace beside her. “And is the chocolate really worth the stains?”

               Donna isn’t so easily deterred, however, determined not to let Jody off the hook, and bulldozes right over her feeble attempt at distraction.

               “Oh, Jody, you _minx_!” she exclaims, scandalized, socking Jody gently in the arm. “Here I’ve been trying to set you up with my friend from the gardening club for _months_ only to find you picking up complete hunks at the supermarket!” She beams at Jody in a look that’s nothing short of proud. “Now, _spill_ , because friends let friends live vicariously through them.”

               “What’s there to spill?” Jody asks testily, though quite reasonably she thinks. “You heard it all yourself. He’s new in town, has a kid – a teenage girl, most likely Alex’s age or close to it. I was just giving him some friendly parenting tips, that’s all. Nothing juicy to stick your nose in.” She pauses, considers throwing Donna a bone. “He’s sweet, though. I don’t think he’ll have any trouble fitting in.”

               She expects an exasperated huff for her vague answers. Instead, Donna’s smug smile only seems to grow brighter, her dimples popping. “You  _like_  him,” she sing-songs, insufferable.             

               “Donna, I just met him," Jody reminds her tartly, flustered and agitated and more than a little afraid that Donna is actually  _right_  as they pull up to checkout line, a bored-looking teenager with an unfortunate amount of acne blowing pink bubblegum bubbles at the cash register. "Besides, I’m too old for all that nonsense. Just thinking about going on a date makes my joints ache.

                Donna gives Jody a dubious look like she’s lost the few remaining marbles she had left, which to be fair, certainly feels like it. “I was born at night, Jody Mills, but it wasn’t _last_ night,” she says archly, helping Jody unload their groceries onto the conveyor belt. "And from the way I caught  _Jimmy_  eyeing you up, he definitely didn't think you were _too old._  Dollars to donuts he had more more on his mind than just tampons. Yet here you are, high and dry without his phone number.” She sniffs, mutters, “And you judge me for my poor dating skills . . .”

                Despite all of Jody’s best efforts, Donna’s words stoke a flare of hope within her. Just for the briefest moment, Jody allows herself to believe that what Donna is saying could possibly be true, that someone could possibly look at her and not think  _damaged_  or _baggage,_ as nearly everyone else in town does _._ Of course, reality swoops in swiftly to correct that, punching a hole in her happiness like a needle to a balloon."It doesn't matter, Donna," she says, and she sounds glum, even to herself. "He's married. Said so himself."

                “You sure about that?" Donna asks, skeptical. "Because I checked and double-checked and _triple_ -checked, and I didn’t see a ring. Not even a class ring.”

               Choosing not to voice her concern that apparently Donna can hone in on a ring finger with all the precision of a heat-seeking missile, Jody opens her mouth to say,  _Of course, he had his ring on_ , when she suddenly remembers, no, she actually never saw it. Come to think of it, Jimmy never actually confirmed he was married either, Jody had merely assumed and he had never bothered to correct her. But then why would he . . . ? Jody shakes her head, stowing the mystery away for another time. “Doesn’t matter,” she repeats, the words an automatic retort while her mind still spins. “It just isn’t the right time, what with Alex still getting settled in and . . . well, everything.”

               “Hah! So you _do_ like him." Donna crows, her enthusiasm coaxing a reluctant smile from Jody. "But why wouldn't you? He's _gorgeous_ , and has that whole Mystery Dad-vibe going for him.” She sighs wistfully, resting her chin in her cupped hand. “Do you think it’s unreasonable to hope he has a brother?”

               "He does, but he’s unfortunately taken. Boyfriend," Jody replies automatically, a little surprised she retained the information. Once the groceries are bagged, she hands over the cash to the teenager, who looks like he wants nothing more for the two middle-aged women to stop clucking and go away so he can go back to looking porn up on his phone.

               "Oh, poop," Donna says, pouting a bit. "Well, I guess I'll just have to settle for being your maid of honor . . ." she adds breezily, with a sly look at Jody.

               " _Donna, so help me_  -"

               Smirking, Donna holds up a hand. “Say no more, Jodio. Never let it be said that Donna Hanscum doesn’t know when to mind her own beeswax.” She pantomimes zipping up her lips. “Mum’s the word."


	2. Chapter 2

 

               “. . . And then, if you can believe it –” Deputy Victor Henricksen pauses to take a swig from his water bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, before continuing animatedly, “If you can _believe_ it, old Frank Devereux wobbles over to me with his shotgun, reeking to high heaven of Wild Turkey, and slurs, ‘Now, see here, officer, you can’t charge with me reckless endangerment when I’m merely protecting my property. I caught that damn raccoon that’s been getting into my trash all week trying to make off with my truck! Can’t say much for his parking, but he’s got one helluva a lead foot!’”

               “Good lord,” Jody cracks up, shaking her head in amused exasperation. When Victor doesn’t continue immediately, she takes that as her cue to prompt, “How’d you handle that one?”

               “Now, hold up, Mills, I’m getting to that,” Victor drawls, pleased that he as her undivided attention. “First, I said, ‘Frank, I don’t care if Alvin and the ChFipmunks are singing their greatest hits in your pickup, you’ve got to put some pants on, man! This isn’t _Breaking Bad_!’”           

               Jody nearly cracks a rib, howling with side-splitting laughter that brings tears to her eyes as she thumps her palm against the steering wheel of the patrol car. Chuckling along with her, Jody’s partner stretches out in the passenger seat, scratching at his neatly-trimmed beard and generally looking like the cat that’s got the cream. Such a smug bastard, Jody thinks affectionately.

               Golden fields of wheat sail by outside the window as they drive smoothly on down the interstate, making their way back to the station after a relatively uneventful day. One broken brake light, and a call about a possible home invasion that had turned out nothing more than a feral cat making a mess out of some garbage cans. All things considered, it’s a nice reprieve after the last grueling week, and Jody’s looking forward to getting home – getting her bra off the minute she steps in the door, maybe seeing if maybe see can coax Alex from her Fortress of Teenage Solitude and watching some bad TV.

              Above them, the South Dakota sky is a cloudless blue, but Jody has diligently kept her gaze strictly on the road in front of her, less her unusually distracted thoughts stray back to a certain pair of similarly colored eyes as they have for the last week and a half – ever since what Jody has privately dubbed as ‘The Grocery Store Incident.’  

              Besides, it’s not a perfect comparison anyways. _His_ eyes had had a touch of gray, like the evening sky during a cold December night _– Great._ Now she’s spouting poetic crap in her head like a lovesick teenager _._ She blames work-related stress and global warming, and makes a last-minute New Year’s resolution to lay off the Nicholas Sparks in the future.

               Jody catches her fingers drumming a sharp staccato on the wheel, and she forces herself to stop. “How’d that all turn out?” she asks, clearing her throat guilty when the question comes out too high. “He didn’t try and make a break for it again, did he?” She chuckles. “Remember that one time you chased Rufus Turner through those bushes that turned out to be poison ivy? You had that tub of aloe vera on your desk for _weeks_ –”

               “You’d do well to keep your wise-cracks to yourself, smartass,” Victor reproves, giving her a stern look. Jody just grins unrepentantly – she knows Victor is anything but put-out, knows the man loves a captive audience almost as much as he does the prime rib they serve at the local steakhouse. With a partnership that has outlasted her marriage, the stoic, tough-as-nails act Victor presents to the rest of the world has long been nothing more than a façade to Jody, who knows exactly how many times Victor has seen _Pride and Prejudice_ and that his recipe for key lime pie is to die for _._ Even as she watches, that glare morphs into a bright-eyed smirk. “Back to my story – no, Frank didn’t run, so I left him off with a warning this time – all he did was ding up his own property and scare the hell out of groundhogs anyway. But I did make him promise to send me over some of his baked lasagna. And you would have gotten some, too,” he adds, grumbling, “if you hadn’t taken off work early.”

               “You know I had to,” Jody snipes out, though her sudden irritation is directed not at Victor, but at the unexpected reminder of the previous drama five days ago. In a determinedly calmer tone, she explains, “The school called and I had to run down to pick Alex up.”

               “Yeah, you never did tell me what all went down.” Victor slides a concerned look at her. “Your girl okay? Is Uncle Victor going to have to shoot someone?”

               Though a little ham-fisted, Victor’s sincere attempt at levity is enough to make Jody crack a reluctant smile. “Long story short, Alex is okay, but she’s in a _world_ of trouble . . . And thanks for the offer, but I’d prefer to handle this myself for now – although I’ll keep it in mind just in case,” she promises grimly.

               Victor whistles lowly. “Now I know it’s serious.”

               “Yeah, but it could have been so much worse.” Jody sighs wearily, decides to just get it over with. “Alex has been suspended for fighting.”

               “Shit,” Victor curses emphatically. “I thought you said she was getting better at keeping her nose down. What happened?”

               “Alex gave some other girl a black eye, and the only reason she’s just suspended for a few days and not expelled –” Just saying the word has Jody breaking out into a cold sweat – “is because two other girls came forward and told the principal that the other girl was a well-known bully, had been harassing Alex for the last month, calling her names - y'know that snide, hurtful things that teenagers fake-whisper behind each other's backs." Jody has to pause there to take a deep breath; it’s hard, admitting this as a cop, admitting someone was hurting her daughter right under Jody’s nose and she never even _suspected_. That Alex didn’t feel comfortable confiding in her. The skin across Jody's knuckles pulls tight, turning bone-white, as her hands curl against the steering wheel in a death grip. "From what I can gather, the other girl had gotten bored of the name-calling and failing to get a rise out of Alex, and decided to step up her game to shoving and a little bit of hair-pulling.  _That_  was when Alex threw the first punch . . . Of course, after listening to that twit of a principal talk to me about Alex like she’s the hooligan here, I was ready to throw a punch of my own.”

                “I’m sure you did, tiger mommy.” Victor smiles. “Good on Alex for holding her ground, though.”

                 It’s probably Bad Parenting 101 for Jody to feel a fierce rush of pride burn through her, but she does nonetheless. The underfed, dull-eyed girl Jody had first met all those months ago would not have hesitated to fight back after the first catty remark.  It gives Jody hope that maybe – just maybe – Alex is getting something good out of living with Jody.

                Out of the corner of her eye, Jody sees Victor frown, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Here’s what I don’t get. Why didn’t Alex ever mention any of this to you?"

                Jody snorts. “Probably didn't want me making a scene by showing up at the school and tossing that bit-" She bites her tongue, swallows the slur back up “–that  _bully_ into the back of the cruiser – which is probably exactly what I would have done," she admits somewhat sheepishly. She sighs, reels her temper back in. Seems she’s doing that a lot lately. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. I’ll probably be seeing that girl a few years down the line anyway. . . .” She takes no pleasure from the thought; as angry as Jody is on Alex’s behalf, a child falling off into the dredges of society is always a tragedy.

                “And why is that?” Victor asks, looking not at Jody but out the window at the fields flying by. “The girl – who is she?”

                “Lilith Masters,” Jody says tersely, because that’s all the explanation she needs.

                 Victor looks over at that, one eyebrow cocked and his interest undoubtedly piqued. “And by any chance would that undoubtedly pleasant and well-mannered girl be perhaps related to our station’s number one patron, Meg Masters?”

                 “Yep,” Jody confirms, popping the p, “you’ve got it . . . Lilith is Meg’s little sister.”

                Victor makes a thoughtful hum in his throat. “Sounds like the other girl got what was coming to her, then, if she’s anything like that hellion sister of hers,” he says shortly, and without remorse. His dismissive tone surprises Jody, because between the two of them, Victor is the one with a long history of giving second chances. Then again, Victor has had his share of run-ins with the Masters family, too. On cue, he raises his arm, jabbing at a spot on his bicep. “Did you know I still have the marks from where Meg bit me last time we booked her?” he complains. “I had to get so many shot after that, and you know how I feel about needles, Jody!”

               At the mention of Meg, Jody barely holds back a shudder of deepest loathing. Since her very first day at the Sioux Falls Sheriff Department, the entire Masters family has been nothing but a thorn in Jody’s side. Violent, crass, frequently caught up in public intoxication, and overly found of sexual assaulting strangers at murky-lit bars, Meg is probably the very worst of the lot (unless those rumors of her father Azazael Master’s murderous past are true . . .) and it’s no secret in Sioux Falls that there’s no lost love between her and Jody. If Meg’s snake of a lawyer uncle wasn’t quite possibly the literal embodiment of Satan, capable of getting his family out of whatever bind they find themselves in, Jody would have tossed Meg’s scrawny ass in jail and thrown away the key long ago.

               But if Lilith Masters thinks she can go after Jody’s daughter just because she trying to avenge Meg or what-the-hell-ever, she’s got another thing coming.

                “Did Lilith at least get the boot?” Victor asks, and he says it so neutrally that it can almost fool Jody, if her keen ears didn’t pick up on the quiet rage simmering just beneath the veneer of calm. It reminds Jody that Victor was with her when they came to take Alex from her previous  _guardians_ (those monsters don't deserve the word family in Jody's opinions),that he also saw the deplorable living conditions, the blood and filth, the deranged red-haired woman clawing for Alex as three other officers held her back, her screams that 'Annie' was  _hers and would always come back to her Mama_ still able to be heard from outside. It makes Jody wonder if Victor has the same dreams of Alex vanishing without a trace one day as Jody does.

                Jody scowls. “The Principal, in all his eminent wisdom, argued that since this was Lilith’s first _recorded_ offense, she should be given a second chance. Not that Zachariah Adler knows the first damn thing about children,” Jody all-but-snarls in disgust. “How that little worm ever got to be a school principal I’ll never understand.”

                Victors nods thoughtfully. “Good thing you taught that girl how to throw a punch correctly,” is all he says, and that’s the end of that.

                “So back to Frank . . ." Jody says after a moment of roughly clearing her throat, blindly grabbing at the topic as a distraction from her growing desire to take the cruiser not to the station but to the Masters’ front door. Thankfully, Victor lets the fumbled transition slide with no comment, though she knows she isn’t fooling him. "Do you really think it was a good idea to let him off easy?"

               "Yeah, I do, actually," Victor replies shortly, obviously annoyed. "That's why I gave him a warning instead of wasting both of our times slapping him with a fine. I checked the gun – it was registered. No one got hurt. End of story."

                Jody purses her lips, keeps her gaze glued to the road. “Maybe I’ll go swing by his place later this week, just to keep an eye on him . . .”

               “Aw, come on, Jody," Victor gripes. "It’s not like he had a body buried in his backyard and everyone with half a brain knows to stay off Devereux’s property unless they want an ass full of buckshot. Leave him be.”

               “He could have seriously injured someone, Vic,” she argues adamantly. “We’re just lucky it’s just some furry woodland critters and not a lost hiker or, godforbid, a _lawyer_ or –" 

                “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Victor interjects, grinning roguishly.

                "I'm serious," Jody presses, not to be deterred. She chews on her bottom lip, then gives Victor a speculative look. "Tell me, Vic, have you already forgotten the Frank Devereux Incident of '14?"

                "Oh, for the love of –” Victor tosses his head back on an exasperated sigh. “Are you _never_ going to allow me to live that one down, Mills?" 

                "Well, I know  _I_  can. The problem is that Dick Roman wasn’t as forgiving," Jody says, smirking at the memory. Their argument has devolved from properly carrying out the law into simply winding Victor up for the sake of Jody’s entertainment.

                Victor snorts, and Jody knows he’s on to her. "You know as well as I do that Dick's face before Frank splattered his Armani suit with a bucket of Borax while screaming about aliens was absolutely priceless. I’m just sorry I didn’t get a picture."

                Jody shakes her head despairingly. “How Frank escaped a lawsuit from that one I’ll never know. “Hey . . .” she mutters conspiratorially, “do you think the rumors are true and Frank really did hack Roman’s email account and blackmail him?”

               “Hold that thought,” Victor says, leaning forward in his seat. “Do you see that up ahead?" He points out the windshield towards the shoulder of the highway and a rapidly approaching shape in the distance. 

               Following his line of sight, Jody squints, fighting the sun’s blinding rays to see whatever it is that’s caught Victor’s attention. It’s a car, she realizes after a moment, pulled over to the side with its emergency lights blinking, hood popped open. "Uh-oh. Looks like someone could use a tow.”

                Victor snorts derisively. “You mean - Looks like some jackass forgot to tap off his coolant and overheated his car. You know,” he starts slowly with meaningful look at Jody, “we don’t _have_ to stop. We can simply report it and be on our merry way –”

                “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Jody says simply, already easing up on the gas. 

               “Fine. Not like I was looking forward to going home or anything,” Victor says mournfully as he straightens up in his seat, slipping back into the role of Deputy Henricksen with ease, although Jody privately thinks that slipping the sunglasses back only serves to ham it up.

               "That the spirit." Jody flicks the siren on and off once to announce their presence as she pulls up on the side of the highway behind the broken down car - a shabby-looking '09 Elantra whose paint job has seen better days. Even from here she can see the copious amounts of steam billowing angrily out from under the propped-up hood of the car. Jody can just make out a figure - presumably the driver - hunched over the engine, though they make no acknowledgement of the cruiser's presence.

                "Everything all right there, sir?" Jody calls over when she steps out of the cruiser with Victor. Gravel crunches under Jody's boots as she ambles over, careful not to slip and tumble down the embankment. "It's not safe to be parked this close to the highway. Trucks zoom by all the time and nail people that aren't careful. Happens all the time." Unfortunately, she’s seen it happen – or at least, the aftermath. 

                 Slightly muffled by the hood and hissing engine, a slightly annoyed voice calls back, "Yeah, I - I know, officer, I -  _shit, that's hot_  - I'll push her to the side in a sec, I just -" Making a noise of pure frustration, the man stops his fumbling with the engine to look over, and when he sees Jody, his blue eyes pop in almost comical surprise. " _Jody_?"

                Jody stops dead in her tracks, completely forgetting she’s still in uniform. Really, though, what were the chances? " _Jimmy_? What are you doing out here in the sticks?"

                It’s only when Victor makes an questioning yet amused noise that sounds suspiciously like, “ _Jimmy_?” that Jody realizes what a complete break from professionalism that was.

                An awkward moment passes wherein Jimmy (who's in a cheap but comfortable-looking black suit like he’s just come off work) just stares at her, or more importantly, the badge pinned to her chest, but eventually Jimmy seemingly shakes himself out of his stunned surprise and he gestures at his car, chuckling sardonically. "At the moment? Running extremely late."

              "Well, I'm no car expert," Jody says, eyeing the still-smoking engine critically. "But if you want my professional opinion, I'd say you're completely screwed."

               Jimmy makes a sharp noise of frustration, legs shifting like he wants to run but doesn’t know where to, impatience evident in every strained line of his face. "This can't be happening," he groans, an audible panic licking at the edges of his voice. "I'm supposed to be picking my daughter up from school in twenty minutes."

                "Have you called for a tow?" Victor jumps in to take a peek under the hood, apparently deciding he doesn't have the patience for whatever it is that's making Jody glitch today.

                Jimmy's grimace says it all. "Phone battery died – yeah, I know, can you believe it?” he says to Jody, and she winces in sympathy. He smiles self-deprecatingly. “As you can see, I'm on one hell of a lucky streak.”

                Jody's reaching for her own phone before the words are fully out of his mouth. "Here. Use mine. The number for Singer Towing should already be programmed in. Ash should get you squared away."

                The unguarded surprise on his face matches what she feels regarding her own daring. "Thanks, Jody," he says softly. When Jimmy reaches for it, their fingers brush in such a way that Jody thinks may be intentional. Her hand tingles as she backs off a few paces to give Jimmy some privacy, who’s already frantically punching in a number.

                While Jimmy talks to whoever is manning the phones today, Jody glances over at Victor to see how he’s coming along, only to find her partner watching her and Jimmy with hawk-like scrutiny, face inscrutable. When she gives him a nonplussed look, Victor snorts and shakes his head before setting himself back to work, tugging at a cap here and tapping at a metal piece there. Jody knows for a fact Victor knows absolutely fuck-all what he's doing, and for a moment she doesn't understand what's with all the uncharacteristic posturing - that is, until Victor looks up at her and tilts his head surreptitiously at Jimmy who, Jody notices, is trying and failing not to stare at Jody's uniform while he talks on the phone with the tow company. Victor, the meddling bastard, then  _winks._

                In a fit of paranoia, the sneaking suspicion that Victor has been talking to Donna behind Jody's back crosses her mind. Of course, the more logical assumption is that Jody’s meddling friends just really want to see Jody get laid.

                "Fuck!" Jimmy curses suddenly, and Jody glares at Victor to mind his own business before turning to see Jimmy stalking off a little ways before coming to a halt, one hand on his hip while rubbing his mouth with the back of the other.

               “What happened? Can’t they get here?” Jody says, struck by a feeling of helplessness and _hating_ it with a vitriol that surprises her.

               Sighing, Jimmy marches his way back to her, expression chagrined. "Sorry, I usually try to avoid having a potty mouth,” he says, a little bit sheepish, but his frustration still very much evident. "It's just that they say all their trucks are out already on pick-ups, and it’ll take two hours to get here." He looks up at Jody, and his blue eyes are frantic. “Jody, my brother and his boyfriend are still at work and Claire can’t walk home and I don’t –” He pauses, catching his breath, and Jimmy looks like he may very well be on the verge of having a panic attack. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits in a small voice.

                His own panic feeds back to her, like a current, and Jody instinctively places a comforting hand on his shoulder "Oh, Jimmy, I'm sorry. We’ll figure something out-"

                "Jody can drop you off," Victor chips in from under the hood. “Ain’t that right, Mills?”

                 "What?" Jimmy asks, already hopeful, spinning on his heel to look at Victor.  _Yeah, Victor,_  Jody thinks, staring in disbelief at her partner even though he can’t see her.  _What the hell_?

                Wiping his oily hands, Victor straightens up to explain, and although his voice is nonchalant, Jody would have to be blind not to see the small smug grin on his face.  _Sonuvabitch._ "Shouldn't be a problem. I can stay here to keep an eye on your car until Ash gets his lazy butt up here with the tow truck, and Jody can give you a lift into town. Shouldn’t be too bad, since you two seem so . . . familiar with each other anyway.”

                 Jody is now glaring daggers at Victor, mouthing silent obscenities, but clams up immediately when Jimmy turns too look at her, face already slack with desperate relief. "Can you really, Jody? I mean,” he hesitates, looks worryingly between her and Victor. “If it’s not too much trouble with either of you? I’m sure you have more important things to do other than playing taxi for me.”

               “We were just wrapping things up here,” Victor informs Jimmy. “Besides, this will just get me some overtime.” Victor looks over at her, one eyebrow raised. “But it’s Jody’s call.”

               Jody, however, can read the subtext: _You’re doing this whether you like it or not._

It’s Jimmy’s pleading blue eyes, though, that make it impossible to say no.

              "If we get going now, we can make it with change to spare," she says as an answer.

               Jimmy's gratitude is profuse, a continuous stream of thanking Jody and Victor, and complimenting her on her wonderful qualities, and promising to make it up to her somehow in the near future. Jody just waves it off, because it's only just starting to gradually dawn on her that she's going to be spending the next twenty or so minutes with the man whose eyes she's been making terrible poetry in her head about for the last two weeks.

               So much for a stress-free week. 

               While Jimmy runs back to the car to grab his briefcase, stuffing papers haphazardly inside, Jody leans a hip against the door of the cruiser, surreptitiously enjoying the view of Jimmy bent over as he rummages around in his car. Her gazes skitters away just in time when he stands up, tossing Victor the keys.

               "You sure you're cool to babysit her?" Jimmy asks. “I should warn you, the air conditioning doesn’t work.”

               “Now he tells me.” Victor offers his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jimmy accepts it, shaking Victor’s hand.

               "I seriously owe you one,” he says, the relief palpable in his voice. “Thanks again, man." Victor cocks an eyebrow, and Jody hides a smirk as she watches Jimmy's face fall and blanch. "Er, I mean, officer - sir. Mister officer, uh -"

                Victor lets Jimmy squirm a moment longer before breaking into a wide smile. “Please. Just Victor’s fine.”

                “Really?” Jimmy asks, face brightening tentatively.

                Victor’s smile drops. “No. It’s Officer Henricksen or nothing at all.”

               “Uh, oh-okay,” Jimmy stammers faintly, face paling, and Jody coughs a laugh into her fist.

               “Okay, boys, time to put the measuring sticks away,” she calls, feigning exasperation. With a nod of thanks to Victor, Jimmy makes his way to Jody like his feet can’t carry him fast enough. Behind him, Victor makes eye contact with Jody, shit-eating grin stretching from ear to ear.

               Jody just smiles back; seems Victor has forgotten Jody has the power to put him on traffic ticketing for the next two months. _Yes_ , she thinks, waving goodbye as she turns away, _my vengeance will be sweet._

               “Hop on in, Jimmy,” she says, patting the hood of the cruiser affectionately. "She might not look like it, but my gal;s built for speed."

               "Aren't civilians only allowed in the back?" Jimmy asks, eyeing the grated divider with apprehension. 

               She grins. "Usually, yeah, but for you, I'll make an exception. Get in." She opens the passenger side door for him. 

               “Oh, so I’m special, then?" he asks cheekily, giving her an audacious wink before sliding into the passenger seat.

               “Don’t push your luck, hotshot,” Jody volleys back as she joins him. As they pull away, Jody can see Victor waving in the overhead mirror, giving her a two-fingered salute. 

                Before long it's just the two of them, alone within the confines of the cruiser and empty stretch of farm-adjacent highway. One minutes passes, and then another, and still no one says anything. All the easygoing conversation seems to have been sucked out and replaced with a tension that lays heavy in the air, thick and cloying. It’s like waiting for a thunderstorm to hit. Jimmy sits stiffly beside her, hands resting awkwardly on his knees like he isn't sure what he's allowed to touch without committing a felony. So far, it isn't living up to the fantasies Jody's mind had run wild with against her consent. They've been driving for an impossibly long ten minutes before Jimmy breaks under the pressure.

                "So . . . You're a cop, huh?"

               "Sheriff, actually," Jody says, allowing a shard of pride to leak into her voice. She points to her chest. "Hence the pointy star."

                "Wow, that's amazing," he says, sounding genuinely impressed. "You, uh . . . you failed to mention that. Y’know - before."

 _You failed to mention whether or not you’re actually single_ , Jody thinks, a little bitter, but like a coward, she doesn’t bring it up. Instead, she shrugs. "Unless I’m about to make an arrest, it rarely comes up in conversation." However, a tendril of unease curls around her. "Why, is that going to be a problem?" she asks carefully, keeping her face neutral.

                "No, no, not at all. I've always found a woman in uniform . . . admirable." Though by the low, throaty way Jimmy says it, as well as the teasing twinkle in his eyes, Jody thinks he may have meant something else. “And the sheriff to boot?” He whistles lowly. “Cleaning the Sioux Falls streets safe by day, saving hapless dads with their groceries by night. Is there nothing you can’t do?”

                 “Well, I’ve been told I’m terrible at badminton,” Jody answers flippantly, flustered from the praise and slightly mollified. Glancing bravely at him, she confesses, “Good to see it doesn’t weird you out.”

                Jimmy’s brows pulls down, enough, Jody notices, that a little divot forms between his eyes. “Why would it?” he asks, honestly baffled.

               Jody shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Sometimes people act differently around me once they learn I've got the badge. Think I'll throw them in jail or some other such nonsense if they piss me off. Or worse – let them off speeding tickets if they get chummy with me."

               "To be fair, that’s probably what I would do if I was put in a position of power,” Jimmy jokes lightly, and Jody finds herself absurdly grateful that he seems to be taking this all in stride. “And my job, by the way? Way less cool, as Claire is so eager to remind me.” At Jody’s questioning glance, Jimmy admits reluctantly, “I sell ad space for radio."

                "Nothing wrong with that," Jody protests. "It sounds very . . .” She searches for the right word. “Respectable.”

                "Oh, no, not you too," Jimmy whines playfully, and Jody finds herself laughing again. Things have eased up considerably over the last several minutes. Jimmy has sunk down into his seat so that his long legs stretch out, the wind blowing from the open window playing with the tangles of his dark hair. Jody's own nerves have settled down, not so keyed up now that she’s gotten one of her two big secrets out of the way. It's amazing how  _easy_  it is to be with Jimmy. Like she's known him forever and not for two short weeks.

                “So your partner,” Jimmy starts slowly, too neutral to pass off as nonchalant.  “Is he the Bad Cop to your Good Cop, then?”

               “Who, Vic?” Jody barks a laugh at Jimmy’s expense. “He was just messing with you. Try not to take it personally,” she advises, not unkindly. “He does it to most people when he first meets them as a sort of test to see if there up to snuff. Once you get to know him, you’ll find out Victor’s really just a giant teddy bear, not that he’ll ever admit it.” She adds, “For what it’s worth, you passed.”

               “I’ll have to take your word for it,” Jimmy says like he’s not quite sure if he believes her. “Then . . . that must make you Bad Cop?” He shoots her a sly smile that has Jody's stomach twisting in knots. It's not an entirely unpleasant sensation.

               “If you like,” Jody allows with an equally suggestive tone, a thrill shooting through her at her own daring. She chances a glance at Jimmy only to find him watching her steadily, his small smile warm. If he keeps it up she's going to have trouble keeping her own eyes on the road.

               Jody wonders when she became so in over her head when she didn’t even realize she was slipping under.

               It’s only when Jimmy repeats himself that Jody realizes he’s talking to her again. “Sorry, I’ve got cobwebs in my head today. What were you saying?”

               “I was just asking what made you choose becoming a small-town cop?” Jimmy asks patiently, not seeming to mind her brief lapse in attention.

               Jody frowns. "Sioux Falls is the largest town in South Dakota," she points out fairly. “Bigger than the state capital even.”

               Jimmy ducks his head, grinning. “My apologies. It wasn’t my intention to cast criticism. It’s just that before moving to Pontiac, I grew up in Chicago, went to school there and everything, so I guess I have a skewed perception of what’s normal-sized.”

               Jody whistles lowly. “Chicago, huh?” she asks, trying and failing to imagine spending the early years of her life in such a bustling metropolis. It’s an intimidating concept, to say the least. “I’ve always wanted to go there. Heard the pizza’s something special.”

                Jimmy laughs. “Yeah, that pizza is pretty good,” he agrees before his voice takes on a wistful tone, gaze a little distant. “Thought I was going to live there forever, but when Ames got pregnant with Claire she wanted to a raise her in a more tightly-knit community, and Pontiac seemed like a little slice of Heaven –” He abruptly cuts off, jerking his head to stare fixedly out the window, but the damage is already done. In the following silence pieces start to fall into place – why Jimmy doesn’t have a wedding ring on, why he didn’t give a straight answer when Jody made her off-handed comment about him having a wife.

 _Oh, Jimmy,_ Jody thinks, terribly sad for reasons she fully understands.

               “Believe it or not,” Jody says slowly, not entirely sure Jimmy is even listening to her now, “becoming a cop somewhere bigger was my original plan, yeah. To move to a larger city, somewhere out of state that wasn’t surrounded by corn and cows. Maybe by the ocean . . . But it's like you said, getting pregnant makes you reevaluate what you want from life, and so my husband and I decided to stay with a community we knew. 'It takes a village' and all that jazz. So, yeah, I get it,” she says quietly, hoping Jimmy gets the double meaning.

                It’s quiet for so long that Jody’s beginning to feel a welling of disappointment that Jimmy will refuse to acknowledge the white elephant in the room (although she’s the last person who would judge), and she’s just about to reach for the radio when finally Jimmy says, “Your husband . . . . I thought your friend Donna said you were single.” She doesn’t miss the way his eyes flicker to her empty ring finger, nor the furrow of confusion that forms on his forehead.

                She smiles ruefully at him. “I think widow is the correct term.” She fights to keep her voice steady, and it works - almost. “He – Sean – and Owen, my son, went on a fishing trip several years back and a truck swerved and hit them."

               Jody allows a moment for it to sink in before she dares a peek at Jimmy, only to see his face has drained to the color of bleached bone, expression horrified. “Jesus, Jody. I’m . . . I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I – Jesus. I don’t even know what I’d do if I lost Claire.”

               _How are you still standing?_ is the question she knows he’s too polite to ask.

               "It was, uh . . . It was hard, for a very long time, no point in downplaying it. Like climbing a mountain,” she says honestly, proud her voice only cracks once. “And it never stopped being hard. But I had good friends looking out for me, and I, well, survived is the best way I can put it. Threw myself into my work, stopped pushing my friends away and accepted their help, got rid of my terrible mom haircut. Eventually, the mountain got smaller. Most importantly, I have Alex now. It’s good being needed. I’d almost forgotten what that was like . . .”

               “Wow. I can’t even imagine . . .” Jimmy trails off faintly, sounding dazed. Whether he’s still digesting all this, or thinking of opening the car door and rolling out of the cab to make a break for it, Jody has no idea. “You must be some kind of super woman,” he says finally, and Jody breathes a little easier for it.

               “Or something . . .” Jody says vaguely. She pauses for a tactful length of time, hoping that it will be enough to encourage Jimmy to open up on his own, but when he remains steadfastly silent, she decides to take matters into her own hands. “Usually this is the part where you share your tragic backstory," she prods gently. "A little quid pro quo.”

              Jimmy turns to stare resolutely out the window again and Jody's heart sinks a little. “What makes you think it’s tragic?” he asks, and it’s all the confirmation Jody needs.

             "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want," she offers, although she very much wants to know, curiosity - and yes, jealousy, she's adult enough to admit - eating her up. "But . . ." And here she bites her cheek, because she's taking a big risk here. "I do think I deserve a least part of the truth, if not all the details."

              Another pause, even longer than the first, and then finally Jimmy is sighing like a man met with defeat, slumping forward to palm his face. "You're right," he says, words muffled in the skin of his hand. "You're right, you're right, you're right, you're right . . . Ames -" He stops like the nickname hurts too much to say, continues haltingly, in quick breaths and sudden stops. "Amelia got sick two years ago. Stage IV breast cancer. She went fast, faster than we'd been prepared for. Claire was only sixteen, too young to lose her mom. . . ." He stops there, and heaving, stilted breaths fill the cabin of the cruiser as they continue down the highway.

             Wetness trails down her cheek, cold and salty, and Jody has to furtively wipe at the corners of her eyes. "Jimmy, I'm so sorry," she says quietly. "I - I shouldn't have pushed -"

             "No, it's fine," he insists, lifting his head to give her a shadow of his regular smile. His eyes are bloodshot, making his eyes an electric blue. "You were going to find out eventually, whether it was today or the next time we met or the time after that . . .  I think I wanted you to know, even if I wasn't ready to tell you myself. I just thought it would be easier hiding the truth, making you think I was just some sad single dad waiting for the divorce to go through.” He pauses, considering, then chuckles wryly. “It was nice, though, you know? The anonymity.”

               “How’s that?” Jody asks.

             “Pontiac is so small, everyone knew what happened to Amelia by the next day, wanted to call to check in, wanted to stop by to see how we were holding up, wanted to send over a casserole or egg salad even when I told them there was no room in the fridge . . . They meant well, but it was overwhelming, and eventually I lost my taste for the pitying of strangers. Here, though, I could just pass through my day without any knowing glances following me. I wasn’t quite ready to give that up when we met.” He pauses, then grimaces. “Please don't think I'm trying to one-up your tragedy or anything. I’m probably not saying anything you don’t already know, either. It's just -" Jimmy stalls, trying to find the right words. 

             "It's nice finding someone who can understand," Jody fills in for him, unable to not steal a look at him.

             "Yeah. Something like that," Jimmy says, his smile a little warmer, eyes a little softer. “Sure beats the hell out of group therapy.”

             Jody bites her lip, wavering. Before she can talk herself out of it, she takes one hand off the wheel and places it between her and Jimmy, an offering. A plea. When she feels the warm, rough weight of his own hand settle and curl over hers, she squeezes back fiercely. 

             Jimmy breathes out slowly, a long, audible exhale, shaking his head. “This is crazy,” he mutters, voice barely above a whisper, though rough like sandpaper. “I mean - I’m not imagining this, am I?” and when Jody looks up in surprise, his eyes are pleading. Though Jody has never thought of Jimmy as particularly frail despite his slender build – a man whose strength came from security in a sense of self – at this moment he seems completely vulnerable, like Jody could break him with a single word.

              She doesn’t need to ask him to clarify. “I don’t exactly have much experience from the last few years to draw on,” she confesses, just as quiet, as there is no place for loud or superfluous words in this moment, “but it feels real to me, too.”

               “That’s good. I’m . . . glad.” The words come out clumsily, but no less sincere. It’s comforting to know Jimmy is treading the same uncharted waters as her.

               Jody allows herself to bask warmth his words bring her before she says thoughtfully, “Of course, we shouldn’t rule out a shared delusion just yet,” easing them back onto more solid footing. Despite Jimmy’s assertions of her being Superwoman ( _as if_ ), Jody can only handle so many world-shifting confessions in one day. 

               Jimmy snorts ruefully, eyes slipping to half-mast as he lets his head flop back against the headrest. He doesn’t let go of her hand, though. “Just for clarification, I don’t go to the grocery store hoping to pick up women with my haplessness. I really am that big of an idiot.”

               Jody smiles, rubbing a little circle into the soft skin of his hand. To the outside perspective it may seem like Jody is overstepping the boundaries of two people who have only met a whopping two times, but it’s been so long since she’s had this connection with another human being, that to pull back now simply because of what society deems proper seems like the path to madness. “You sure about that?” She clicks her tongue. “Hmmm, I don’t know, Jimmy. Something about a man willing to break gender roles and scour through the tampon aisle seems dead sexy to me.”

               “Ha, ha,” he says, although she can hear the smile. Suddenly, Jimmy peaks one eye open. “Wait, you were joking, right?” She says nothing, face threatening to fracture from the stress of her stretching smile. “Jody? Jody!”

 

 

              “Mom-hair? What does that even _mean_?”

              “It means that if I’d showed you a picture of me from five years ago, you'd probably wouldn't even recognize,” Jody explains as they turn onto the road that’ll take them to Sioux Falls High School. Already the traffic is becoming congested, and Jody has to resist honking at a particularly slow-moving Toyota. “I’m taking big, nearly down to my shoulders – the whole nine yards.”

               “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Jimmy says, and if he were any other man Jody would think he were being patronizing. On Jimmy, however, Jody truly believes she could shave a stripe down the middle of her head and Jimmy would be okay with it (not that _she_ would, of course).”I mean, I once _thought_ about dying my hair blue.”

               “I knew you were a true rebel at heart,” Jody chuckles. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

               “Nah, I think you have me confused with my brother,” Jimmy says, a self-deprecating twist to his mouth. “You’d never think it if you met him, but Cas has a rebellious streak a mile wide. Sometimes I wonder if he’s actually Claire’s father and that’s where she got hers from,” which to Jody seems like an odd comment to make, but she lets it slide. “Your hair is definitely a little punk rock, though. Your own little act of rebellion.”

              “Yes and no,” Jody answers after a moment’s consideration. “Mostly I just wanted to stop looking like the mom from _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody_ after she stopped being blonde.”

              "Oh, yeah, I remember her. She was cute.” Jimmy only grins unabashedly when Jody shoots him a look, wiggling his eyebrows until Jody cracks and giggles. After a moment he glances away, clearing his throat. “For what it's worth, I like the way you have it now.”

             Jody resists the urge to run a self-conscious hand through her pixie cut. “Most people think it looks too severe.”

             Jimmy snorts. “Luckily, you don’t strike me as the type of person who lets ‘what other people’ dictate her lifestyle choices.”

             A bubble of some unnamed emotion bursts from her in a bark of laughter. “Damn right.”

             When they pull into the school’s parking lot, the platoon of yellow buses are lined up outside, and a stream of students are just starting to come out, a light trickle that soon becomes a streaming torrent teaming with boisterous and overly loud bodies. Jody has to dodge more than one daredevil on a skateboard to make it into a free parking space beside a blue Honda. “Here we are, then. Three o’clock on the nose. Right on schedule.”

             “Oh, my God, Jody, thank you so, _so_ much,” Jimmy says fervently, the gratitude once again shining in his eyes. “I still don’t know what I would have done had you not shown up when you did.”

             “It’s nothing, Jimmy. Just – y’know, doing my job,” she replies lamely, a little uncomfortable for being praised for something she does every day.

             “Someone how I don’t think being a cop is the same thing as being my white night,” Jimmy counters. “Going the extra mile isn’t a job, it’s what kind of person you are. No one else would have done that for who wasn’t family. Seriously – I could kiss you right now.”

              Jimmy doesn’t even seem to realize what he just said, but Jody sure does. Oh, boy, does she ever. She can feel her body blush from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair, and she takes a sharp intake of breath that sounds frightfully loud in the closed confines of the cruiser. When Jimmy makes a face in askance, she recovers enough to say, “Well, it would be appropriate, considering you seem destined to be perpetually cast in the role of damsel-in-distress.”

               As though a lightbulb goes off, Jimmy cants his head slightly, peering at Jody with a speculative look that makes her toes curl, a not-quite smirk playing at the corners of his plush mouth. He edges nearly-imperceptibly closer to her, and she feels herself pulling towards him like the tide. “Is that a request, Sheriff?”

               Unlike last time, she doesn’t let herself chicken out. “You could consider it a token of your everlasting gratitude.”

               His gaze flickers to her mouth again. “Hmmm. I think I’d be agreeable to that payment. After all, I might find myself in need of my knight again sometime soon.”

               A moment’s hesitation ticks by unnoticed by the rest of the world wherein a shared look of consent passes between them, and then Jody’s easing ever-so-slightly forward, easy as falling –

               A series of staccato raps against the driver’s side window have Jody and Jimmy breaking apart faster than if they’d been electrocuted, causing Jody to ram her elbow rather painfully into the armrest.  Rubbing frantically at the stinging pain, Jody has only a moment to shoot Jimmy a look – one that she hopes conveys _Be cool, I’ll handle this_ – and plaster a cheerful and 100% not-guilty smile on her burning face before cranking the driver’s side window down to face their interloper, made on the more difficult by her suddenly clammy hands.

               “Mrs. Moseley!” she all-but-screams when she recognizes the face of Alex’s calculus teacher peering at them with an expression Jody’s paranoia insists is smugly amused. Making an effort to lower her voice down an octave, Jody adds, “H-how are you today?”

               “Oh, just fine, Sheriff. Can’t complain when you’ve got weather like this today,” she says serenely, gesturing at the cloudless sky. In a slightly sterner tone that somehow manages not to lose an ounce of its pleasantness, she adds, “And I’ve told you before, just ’Missouri’ is fine.”

               “My apologies, Missouri,” Jody agrees amicably.

               She smiles at Jody, but then her dark eyes flicker over Jody’s shoulder. “Well, hello there, Mr. Novak. Fancy seeing you here. You’re not giving our dear Sheriff any trouble, I hope?”

               Out of the corner of her eye, Jody sees Jimmy squirm like he wants nothing more at that moment than to sink into the leather and away from Missouri’s piercing scrutiny. “Nope, nope. Definitely not, Miss Mo – I mean, Missouri. Just here to pick up Claire, and Jody, er, Sheriff Mills here generously gave me a ride. Car troubles, unfortunately.”

               “Oh, Claire’s a wonderful girl," Missouri enthuses, and Jody watches in approval as Jimmy proudly puffs out his chest. "Make sure you tell her to practice her derivatives, though, I know she was capable of doing better on our last pop quiz.”

               “Yep. Will do.” Jimmy bobs his head awkwardly, the flush not quite yet gone from his face.

               “What can I do for you, Missouri?” Jody pushes with as much politeness as she can muster, but she’s tired of Missouri taking her sweet time getting to her point, and Jimmy still needs to go find Claire. “You know Alex is still, um –” She shoots a censured look at Jimmy, not wanting to lie about Alex like she’s ashamed but also not wanting Jimmy to walk away with some false impression of her daughter. She meets Missouri’s eyes meaningfully. “Out.”

               At that Missouri’s expression turns hesitant, and she bites her lip, instantly setting Jody on edge before the first words are out of her mouth. “Well, you see, Jody, that’s actually what I came over here to talk to you about . . . I’ve had plenty of students play hooky when the weather’s warm. Lord knows I did it plenty of times myself when I was your daughter’s age.” Her smiles is a tad mischievous for a brief moment before it fades. “But I must say sneaking _back_ onto the campus is a first.”

               Jody furrows her brow, nonplussed, sure she couldn’t have heard that right. “Wait, Missouri, are you saying Alex is here? _Now_?”

               Missouri raises an eyebrow and retorts crisply, “Well, unless that’s her twin over there by the benches with Mr. Novak’s daughter and Ms. Chambers, I would say my vision is still 20/20.”

               Jimmy had whipped around in his seat at the mention of Claire, and his forehead is now pressed against the window. “I think . . . no, wait - yeah, I see her. I see Claire. Jody, does Alex have dark hair and a light denim jacket?”

               Jody’s stomach plummets to land somewhere in the vicinity of the foot mat, and without so much as a hasty _pardon me_ she pushes ungracefully past Jimmy to follow his gaze out the window.

               “What in the world . . .?”

               Not fifty yards from them, visible even through the teeming masses of students moving past them like so many ants, is Alex . . . and yet, somehow, _not_ Alex. At least, not the Alex Jody thought she knew. This Alex is _smiling_ – genuine and not twisted with mocking bitterness – chatting casually like it’s nothing with two girls her age– one with a single braid in her long blonde hair and another with a ponytail the color of melted chocolate.

               _She looks_ happy, Jody realizes, and it pierces something deep inside her, enough to let loose a burst of longing. This is the girl Jody so desperately wants to meet.

               “That her?” Jimmy’s concerned voice cuts through Jody’s thoughts, and while he doesn’t seem to mind that Jody nearly elbowed him in the throat, he does sound politely curious. How much has Jimmy deduced on his own, from Missouri’s thinly veiled warning, and from what Jody had confessed to him herself?

               Jody sighs in resignation. “Yeah, it is . . . What is she even doing here? I didn’t even know she had any –” and then Jody shuts right the hell up, realizing she had just been about to say _friends_. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Jimmy give her a look, but blessedly he says nothing and lets the obvious censure pass without comment.

              Motioning Jimmy to follow her, Jody gets out of the cab, careful not to slam the door. If Alex spots her before Jody can catch up with her, she’ll most likely spook and bolt. _Or maybe Alex is right and I need to stop thinking like a cop and start thinking like a mom_ , she berates herself, her simmering anger split equally between Alex and herself. “Thanks for the heads-up, Missouri. I’ll take it from here.”

               Hitching her purse further up her shoulder as she steps back to let Jody through, Missouri grimly advises, “I suggest you don't dillydally. Best shoo her home before Zachariah spots her and pitches one heck of a fit.” She shudders. “That man might have the brains of a sack of potatoes but he has a temper meaner than that of any wolverine.”

               Jody grimaces at Missouri’s apropos choice of words, even as she feels overwhelming gratitude that at least Alex one teacher on her side, willing to see past her checkered history. “Too true. Trust me, though, that girl will be leaving with me, even if I have to drag her back by her ears.”

               As she and Jimmy start to make their way over towards the school to swoop in and collect their respective children, their path made easy as teenagers give them a wide berth and eye them (or more specifically, Jody) uneasily, Jody hears Missouri call out brightly from behind them, “You and and Mr. Novak have a good day now, Jody! Remember, we're looking for parent volunteers to help chaperone the Sophomore dinner-dance in May!”

               Jimmy allows a few moments of walking in uneasy silence to pass before he shuffles up close to Jody, their shoulders brushing. "Do you think she saw?" he mutters lowly, and he doesn't sound as worried as Jody thought he would. On the contrary, he sounds almost giddy, like they've just gotten away with something highly illicit and that much more thrilling. His excitement is catching, makes Jody feel like they're partners-in-crime, which needless to say is a peculiar feeling for a cop.  

               Not having to ask for clarification, Jody surreptitiously glances over her shoulder on the pretense of rolling her neck, sees Missouri still serenely standing beside the cruiser, and just as the thought starts to form that she'd been waiting specifically for Jody to look back, she _winks_. Without another word, she turns around and melts into the slowly thinning crowd, bustling off towards the teacher’s lot.

               "If she didn't, she damn well suspects now," she informs Jimmy sagely when she turns back around. At Jimmy's questioning look, her mouth quirks in amusement. "Gossip travels fast around here, and the more loose-lipped parents tell me that the students swear up and down that Missouri can never be fooled. Wanna guess why?"

                "Because teenagers are terrible liars and the dog-ate-my-homework excuse hasn't worked since the fifties?" Jimmy asks drolly.

                "Because she's _psychic_ ," Jody corrects in her best woo-woo voice, wiggling her eyebrows. 

                Although they don't slow down, Jimmy looks down at his feet, biting his bottom lip. "So what you're telling me is she already knows where I'm taking you on our third date?" 

                “Shut up,” Jody tells him reflexively, but she grins despite herself. “Come on, you dork, I’ve gotta go play Bad Mom now.”

               As expected, Alex is less than enthused to see Jody striding up to her on school grounds, in full Sheriff garb no less. The moment she spots Jody, she stops mid-sentence, mouth gaping as a mixture of outrage, fear and – perhaps worst of all – embarrassment fights to be the dominant emotion on her face.

               The brunette with the ponytail and dimples waves her hand in front of Alex’s unresponsive face, unaware of Jody’s presence directly behind her. “Uh, Alex, you okay? Look, she’s totally spacing, Claire. _Helllloooo_ , ground control to Major Alex –”

               “Well, _hey there_ , kids!” Jody exclaims with exaggerated volume to announce her presence, taking no small amount of pleasure when the other two jump, whipping around to stare up at her with twin guilty expressions. There’s no doubt in Jody’s mind that both of them know exactly why Alex isn’t allowed at school. “Mind if I borrow Alex for a moment?”

               “ _Jody_!” Alex hisses, eyes frantically darting back in forth as though afraid someone will connect her to the town Sheriff. Jody tries not to let it hurt her feelings, or at the very least show that it does.

               “Dad?” With eyes the exact crystalline shade as Jimmy's, the blonde looks warily between Jody and Jimmy, gaze uncannily zeroing in on the nearly nonexistent space between them. “You’re early.”

               “Heya, Claire-bear,” Jimmy says warmly, moving past Jody to wrap his daughter in a hug, planting a kiss at the top of her head. “I took the express way.”

               “ _Dad_ , come on, that's so unnecessary,” Claire complains, wiggling in his arms, but it’s clear even to Jody that the grousing is all an act. As she surreptitiously watches, Jody’s stomach clenches with an unexpected emotion, and she’s ashamed when she realizes it’s jealousy. 

               Jody’s gotta hand it to Alex, though: she pulls herself back together remarkably fast, demanding in a still shaky voice that’s more reminiscent of her usual haughty tone, “What are you _doing_ here?”

               “Why, to give you a lift home, of course,” Jody replies, so jovial you’d think there were rainbows and freakin' glitter shooting straight out of her ass, but she makes sure Alex can read the real message in her eyes loud and clear: _You are so grounded._  

               Judging by the way Alex pales, message received.

               “Ohhh, you’re so totally busted,” the brunette sing-songs at Alex, neatly dodging when Alex takes a halfhearted swipe at her.

               “Shut _up_ , Krissy,” Alex mutters, furiously brushing a wayward strand of hair behind her ear while her face breaks out in a flush. Jody chalks it up to typical teenage distaste for being seen in public with the hideously uncool parental units, but when she catches Alex furtively glancing back at Krissy as the girl bids her goodbyes and makes her way towards the line of yellow buses, the smallest of smiles breaking free, it suddenly all makes sense why Alex would pull such a stupid stunt.

               Sometimes teenagers are so astonishingly _predictable_.

               “I wasn’t _doing_ anything wrong, though. I was just talking to Claire and Krissy,” Alex protests, crossing her arms defensively around her chest. Already Jody feels a headache coming on, hyperaware of how Jimmy is witness to all this, obviously trying and failing not to notice their little public spat as he fiddles with his watch.

               “You couldn’t have talked somewhere else?” Jody demands incredulously. “Preferably somewhere _off_ school grounds? Even better - use that expensive cell phone you begged me to get you.”

               Her entreaty is met with a sneer. “Oh, I knew you just couldn't wait to throw that one back in my face. God, Jody, it’s not like I was getting high with those stoner losers by the dumpsters,” Alex scoffs, shaking her head in disgust as she looks away first. “Why are you always treating me like a child?” she mutters, more to herself.

               It’s on the tip of Jody’s tongue to yell, _Because you_ are _one_! but because she wants to nip this in the bud before it can turn into a full-fledged shouting match in the school parking lot, she grits her teeth and says mildly, “Well, I guess you should have thought of that before going behind my back and breaking the rules.”

               "The buzzard's rules are stupid," Alex mutters stubbornly. Jody blinks, pausing until she realizes Alex must be referring to Zachariah. How fitting.

               "I agree," Jody says without hesitation, and Alex looks up at, a brief flash of surprise in her expression before she smothers it into something more suspicious. Sighing wearily, Jody comes around to put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. She takes it as an auspicious sign that although she stiffens, Alex doesn’t shake it off. “I understand this is the last thing you want to hear right now, but sometimes you're going to find you have no choice but to work within a set of rules you don't like. I can't just go around shooting people because they run red lights, you know?" Although it doesn't elicit the smile Jody had been hoping (perhaps naively) for, Alex's mouth does seem to soften from its hard line. Jody'll take it. "I _know_ this sucks now, really, I do - but you have got to try and remember it's all temporary. When everything goes back to normal, I promise to do everything I can to make sure this never happens again, but you're going to have to help me." She meets Alex's gaze intently. "Can you do that for me, Alex?"

               Alex takes her time answering, her mouth screwed up to the side as she seizes Jody up. "Will you allow me a later curfew, then? Say 'til . . . midnight?" 

               Jody grins wryly despite herself, feels the tension in her shoulders easing. "Eleven-thirty, and not a minute after," she concedes. "C’mon, kiddo, let’s get going. We’ll talk more when we get home.” She turns to Jimmy and Claire, plastering a rather fixed smile. It's the best she can offer, emotionally drained as she it.“How about I give you guys a lift? You’ll be the first people I’ve ever had in the back without handcuffs.”

               Alex groans in embarrassment, smashing her forehead against her palm, which is exactly why Jody said it. If nothing else, tormenting Alex with bad jokes will be punishment enough. Her brief moment of levity dries up, however, when Jimmy walks up to her with sad puppy-dog eyes.

               "You know what, Jody, if it's all right with you, Claire and I are just going to wait here until my brother can come pick us up," Jimmy says, contrite. Claire hangs back behind him, inexplicably mistrustful gaze narrowed on Jody. Is there some cosmic universal balance she doesn't know about that states at least one teenager must take up a personal vendetta against Jody at all times?

               "Oh," Jody exclaims, too surprised to cover her disappointment better. "You sure? It really wouldn’t be any trouble -"

                Jimmy side-steps closer to her, bringing his mouth to her ear. "I just mean I think it'd be better for Alex," he says hastily in an undertone, glancing furtively to where Alex is a stony-faced figure, eyeing Jimmy warily, if not quite as openly hostile as Claire. He pulls back, eyes sparkling as he musters up a self-deprecating smile. "You guys obviously have some private things you need to go over, it’d be easier if I’m not in the way."

Pursing her lips less she lets slips something she'll later regret, Jody simply nods mutely. He's just being pragmatic, she reminds herself firmly. This isn’t a dismissal. "Well, then." A sharp, false laugh escapes from her throat before she can stop it, making Jody, if possible, even more uncomfortable, on edge. She wonders if it’s obvious to Jimmy just how out of practice she is with all this nonsense – flirting and dating are two skills that have atrophied in favor of more practical things, like zoning laws and gun safety. "I guess this is goodbye, then."

                Jimmy's lips twitch. "For now . . . Actually, you know what? Here, wait just a sec." Fishing for something in the inner coat of his suit jacket, he pulls out a small white card and hands it to Jody. "Take my business card. It has my cell on it, just in case you’re ever - you know -" He huffs, ducking his head to rub at his quickly reddening neck. Frankly, it's distracting as hell, and Jody wonders how any man can have the right to be this beautiful and a completely awkward mess at the same time. "In case."

                "Hmm," Jody ponders as she turns the stiff rectangle of paper between her fingers, using the time to get a handle on the butterflies in her stomach that have evolved to helicopters. "I thought we'd decided it was  _you_  who would be calling  _me,_ damsel."

                When Jimmy smiles this time, it crinkles his eyes and nose, showing the pink gums of his mouth. He's one of those people who smile with their whole body, Jody decides. "Well, I thought that in this one special case, the knight might like to have the ball in her court." Before he turns to leave, Jimmy pauses, turns to look directly at Alex. "It was good to meet you, Alex. If Claire wants, you'll always be welcomed at our house for dinner – although, fair warning, things are pretty cramped right now."

                 "I -" Alex stutters, startled at being addressed so respectively by an unfamiliar adult. Jody presses closer to rub soothing circles on her back. "Thank you, Mr. Novak."

                 "You're welcome, Alex,” Jimmy returns kindly. “And . . . if I'm not overstepping your boundaries here, would it be okay for me to ask you to take it easy on Jody here? She cares very much for you." His gaze flickers to Jody, and his eyes crinkle with mirth. "Even if she can seem a little bossy."

               When Alex isn’t looking, Jody sticks her tongue at him. Jimmy smiles back impishly.

               "No promises," Alex says quietly, but there's a definite up-tilt to her expression, and Jody has to stop herself from getting a little choked up as she watches her daughter-in-name and not-boyfriend regard each other with something strikingly similar to approval. A brief image of them looking at each like that from across the family dinner table flashes in Jody’s mind before she snaps the lid shut on that, content to pretend nothing of the sort happened.

                 They part not long after that, Alex solemnly waving farewell to Claire (who despite her misgivings for Jody waves back) as she and Jody trudge back to the cruiser, the parking lot nearly completely empty by now.

                "So is that guy your boyfriend now?" Alex asks bluntly once they're alone in the car, and her lack of inflection means Jody can’t interpret if the direct question is antagonistic and meant to provoke Jody, or if Alex is simply unpracticed in expressing simple curiosity. 

                 Jody answers as truthfully as she can as they pull out of the parking lot and onto the road that'll take them back onto the highway. "Jimmy's . . . complicated," she decides, choosing pragmatism over optimism. "However . . . if things were to change somewhere down the road, as I th- as I hope they might . . . how you would feel about that?”

               Alex shrugs, gaze glued to the window. “Why would it matter how I feel?” she asks dully, and it makes Jody's heart pang. 

               “I wouldn’t bring anyone into our home that you weren’t comfortable with, Alex,” Jody states firmly, adding a slight emphasis on _our home._ Although she doesn’t say anything, Jody can tell Alex is mulling it over, and it gives Jody hope that for maybe, maybe just this once, everything will work out all right in the end.


	3. Chapter 3

             

 

               “I cannot _believe_ you roped me into this, Ellen Harvelle,” Jody mutters mutinously, shivering in the air conditioned lobby of the restaurant (Max’s Steakhouse and All-You-Can-Eat Buffet, Sioux Fall’s idea of fine dining), her coat temporarily abandoned to the coat rack. She’s not used to showing so much skin, and while modest, the blue dress she dug out of the closet (and nearly cried tears of joy that it still fit, even after all these years) clings in ways Jody privately thinks are far from flattering.

               “Believe me, Mills, I’ve been hoodwinked into this shenanigans just as much as you have,” Ellen retorts, albeit rather cryptically given how Jody had been under the impression that this was Ellen’s foolhardy endeavor all along. As she speaks, Ellen’s gaze furtively scopes the lobby and its inhabitants milling about, tugging anxiously at the lapels of her black jacket. The flowy blouse she wears underneath is actually rather lovely, Jody thinks privately, as are the black slacks, even if they’re not Ellen’s usual jeans-and-plaid style. The shade of green brings out the color in her hazel eyes. “But seeing as we already paid for the damn tickets, we may as well make the best of it.”

                “There’s not one person in here that’s gonna look at me and not think ‘Mom,'” Jody hisses when she catches an eyeful of the plunging neckline on the little black dress of the woman that just walked in from outside, six-inch heels click-clacking as she breezes by Jody and Ellen. The woman – who is so stunning she could be airbrushed on the cover of a magazine, coy green eyes and a devilish smirk paired with elegantly twisted caramel hair and more diamonds than Jody’s ever seen outside of a jewelry store –  winks audaciously at them as she strolls by.

               “See you inside, ladies,” she greets (or, perhaps more correctly,  _taunts_ ), British accent a smooth purr, before gliding past them in an effortless gait on her way to speak to the maître d’ at the front of the lobby, who greets her with a fawning smile once his eyes travel back up from her chest. Although it’s too loud in the lobby for Jody to eavesdrop, the woman says something to him that evidently must have been extraordinarily witty given how the maître d’ throws his head back and brays like a donkey. With her own tinkling laugh she lays a hand on the man’s shoulder in a move that’s more a caress than a pat as she slips past him to make her way through the double doors, to the main dining room and presumably where the rest of the attendees await.

               “Then again, maybe they won’t be looking at me at all,” Jody mutters faintly, eyes still glued to where the women had left.

               Ellen pats her hand consolingly. “Don’t worry, hon. While that one is busy eating up all the weak ones, we’ll swoop in and hook ourselves a half-decent catch. ‘Sides, all you gotta do is mention you own a rather nifty pair of handcuffs,” she points out with a dry chuckle, and despite her better judgment it's enough to have Jody breaking out into a bout of uncontrollable giggling, her nerves momentarily getting the best of her. “Come on, Jody.” Ellen gently elbows her. “We didn’t get all dolled up just to come home empty-handed, now did we?”

               “ _You_ came here to get some, you hussy, _I_ came as moral support,” Jody corrects her.

               Ellen scoffs disbelievingly. “You telling me that if some _fine young thang_ ” – she exaggerates the accent to make Jody crack another reluctant smile – “waltzes up to you and proposes you test out his new hot tub with him, you’re just gonna turn him down?”

               “Yep,” Jody answers succinctly with a tiny bob of her chin.

               “Oh, that’s right,” Ellen drawls slowly, something like dawning comprehension lighting up her eyes, and the sly tone of her voice instantly sets Jody on alert. “Word around these parts is that you’ve already found yourself a little something-something.”

               Jody whips her head around so fast she nearly gives herself whiplash. “Where did you -?”

               Ellen shrugs, unrepentant. “Donna stopped by the Roadhouse the other day for a margarita. Of course, she just barely beat out Victor, who was practically tripping over himself to tell me . . . Your partner sure has the gift for gab, you know that?”

               Jody groans, hanging her head miserably. This can’t be happening. “Those two could run a gossip column.”

               “What I can’t believe,” Ellen says, poking a finger into Jody’s chest, “is that you didn’t tell me _yourself_ , Jody Sarah Mills.”

               “There’s nothing to tell, Ellen,” Jody insists, still scrunching her nose at the dreaded use of her full name. “Jimmy’s just some guy that I bumped into twice. That’s all it is. A coincidence.”

               “Uh-huh,” Ellen harrumphs, not sounding at all convinced.

               “And you know . . .  sent a few texts, some emails.” Jody shifts, ducking her head and nudging her shoe against the floor. “He sent me a cute cat video the other day . . .”

               “Jody.”

               “Okay, okay.” Jody throws her hands up in surrender. “We –”

               “Oh, his name is _We,_ is it?” Ellen smirks. “What is he, some sort of hippy from the West coast?”

               It’s official. All Jody’s friends are assholes. “Fine, smartass, his name is _Jimmy_ , okay? Jimmy and I . . . talk fairly regularly. I guess,” she says lamely.

               “ _Just_ talk?”

               Jody gives her an unamused look. “Yes, Ellen _Jacqueline_ Harvelle, just talk.” And then, because turnabout’s a bitch, Jody adds almost-smugly, “Not for, you know, lack of desire . . .”

               “Alright, alright, no need to rub my nose in it.” Ellen’s face splits into a wide grin, and her eyes twinkle. “So what you're telling me is, the cake is worth the bake."

               "More like worth buying a whole new oven," Jody murmurs just low enough for Ellen to hear. "But that's all you're getting out of me."

               “Well, hell, girl, don’t go spilling your secrets all at once,” Ellen huffs. When Jody doesn’t say anything more and merely purses her lips, Ellen raises both eyebrows in mild disbelief. “You really like this fella, don’t you?”

               Jody just shrugs, but the effect is kind of ruined by the pleased smile that feels like it's trying to stretch until it can escape her face. 

               "Dammit, Jody," Ellen curses quietly, shaking her head, and she almost seems angry. "If you didn't want to go with me to this stupid thing, why didn't just say so?" 

               Jody rolls her eyes at the frankly moronic question. "Because you needed me, and I wasn’t going to let you do this alone, regardless. What if you met someone who was a total creep and I wasn’t there to make you see reason?” Ellen just gives her an unimpressed look. “Now, come on; we're going to be late." She offers her arm to Ellen, who smirks and gamely threads her arm through Jody's, tugging her forward through the lobby, which has thinned to a few stragglers during all their yapping. “You still haven’t told me how in the world this harebrained scheme got into your head in the first place."

               “A little sly fox by the name of Joanna Beth, that’s what. As was the monkey suit," Ellen grumbles, gesturing down at herself. 

                "Jo?" Jody asks, a little bewildered. "This was her idea?" That was . . . surprising, to put it mildly, given how many police reports Jody has written up over the last few years involving Jo scaring off Ellen's would-be beaus with a loaded shotgun whenever they failed to meet up to her standards, which was always. Jody had always speculated that in Jo's mind, no man could ever match the late Bill Harvelle - beloved father, devoted dad, and taken away too soon in a tragic hunting accident years before. 

                "I know, right?" Ellen snorts. "Apparently, Jo has suddenly gotten it into that head of hers that I spend too much time behind the bar and not enough 'living my life.'" She rolls her kohl-ringed eyes. "What a load of bull. If you ask me, she just wants me to be distracted so I'll stop pestering her about college." 

               Jody nods thoughtfully, chewing over what Ellen has revealed. "Hmm. And how long has Jo been dating that nice Anna Milton girl again?”

              Ellen's face brightens momentarily as she thinks it over. “Oh, about five, six months, give or take a week.” Ellen pauses, then narrows her eyes at Jody. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

               “Well, if you're looking for reasons Jo might want to stick around longer . . . None of this explains why you’re here anyway,” Jody diverts tactfully, hiding a smile. 

               Ellen rolls her eyes so forcefully it's a wonder she doesn't sprain something, but because they’ve been best friends ever since first grade, ever since Jody had pushed Gordon Walker in the mud for trying to take away Ellen’s fire truck toy, she dutifully spills her dirty little secret, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like, " _Pamela Barnes told me that Bobby Singer was gonna be here."_

                Jody laughs uproariously, choking out, " _Bobby Singer_!?" and Ellen smacks her on the arm with her handbag, scowling.

                "Quiet, you, before someone hears ya!"

                "I guess that explains why I've seen Bobby skulking around the Roadhouse so often lately,” Jody reflects, a little amazed she could be so blind as to miss the real reason why Ellen’s sink kept mysteriously springing a leak every two weeks. “Now tell me - has he really been fixing your plumbing or was that just a euphemism?"

                Ellen scowls fiercely, actually _blushing_ like Jody hasn’t seen her do since she was fifteen. "Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, chuckles. Keep up with it and I make sure to 'accidentally' tell Ash how you  _really_ dig his mullet." Before Jody can make her own smartass remark, Ellen’s expression abruptly shifts into something guilty, and she eyes Jody uneasily. “You’re not . . . mad . . . are you?”

               “You tell Ash whatever you want,” Jody says, unconcerned. “I’ll probably just end up with free tech support for a year –”

               “No, not that,” Ellen corrects impatiently, looking deeply uncomfortable now. “The other thing – about _Bobby_.”  

               Oh – _oh_. Suddenly, Ellen’s guilty expressions makes sense, though Jody is slightly impressed Ellen’s memory is that good.  “Ellen, you know full well that thing Bobby and I had ended years ago. Before I even met Sean. We were just two dumbs kids at the time, having fun. But not too much fun,” she adds hastily, lest Ellen gets the wrong idea. “It never got very far, sputtered out by senior year – and then I met Sean and he met Karen and that was that. Sure, Bobby and I have remained friends, but I’ve never wanted to rekindle it. And considering all the times I’ve booked him for public intoxication over the years, I rather doubt he’s keen on shacking up with me again. But hey – if you want to tackle that old grease monkey, then I want you to go for it, so long as it makes you happy.”

               With suspiciously misty eyes that Jody knows better than to comment on, Ellen offers Jody one of her rare smiles and pats her on the arm. “You’re good people, Jody Mills.” Then a devilish gleam appears in her eye, as well as smirk that spells nothing good for no one. “So, you want I should let Ash know you’re interested or . . .?”

                Luckily for Ellen, they reach the host's desk before Jody can shove her. Standing behind it is a rather attractive older gentleman, late forties or early fifties, with blond hair and a lascivious smile who straightens up when he sees Ellen and Jody drawing nearer, puffing himself up importantly. His violently purple suit makes Jody’s eyes water.

               "Well, hello, ladies, I was beginning to think you'd never join us," the man drawls in an accent remarkably similar to the gorgeous woman from moments before, and just as equally condescending, throwing whatever good opinion Jody had on his looks out the window. Beside her, Ellen is already starting to look impatient, huffing and crossing her arms impassively over her chest. "I'm Balthazar Roche, and I'll be your host for this evening. Just sign your names down in the register - yes, there you go - take a name tag from over here – yes, good – and now that we’ve got all that squared away, it is my very good pleasure to welcome you to the very first Sioux Falls Speed Dating Extravaganza!”

 

               The night had started off well enough, and then it had gotten a little awkward. Now it’s becoming a downright disaster.

               Before the main event had kicked off, Jody, Ellen, and the rest of the participants had been ushered into the restaurant's side dining room (a lot like sheep being herded, Jody had observed disdainfully at the time) where Balthazar had explained the rules: all women were to remain seated at their assigned tables, with the men rotating from table to table. Each 'date' would last for fifteen minutes, at which time a buzzer would sound. Then, it was off to the next table. At the end of the night, you could collect the contact information of any one you found interesting.

               Jody must be getting sentimental in her old age, because she fails to find anything romantic in being forced to make conversation with a stranger in the time it takes for her to wash her car. Not that that seemed to matter to all other the other hopeful attendants chattering about, glancing around the room as they scoped out both the potential dates and the competition. All to soon, however, Balthazar had been calling them out by name, and Jody was pulled away with Ellen to sit at a table several seats away from her. And then it had begun.

               Jody’s first date had been good-looking enough, a surgical intern by the name of Adam Milligan, but Jody knew right off the bat he was _way_ too young for her. Just watching him stride up to her table, all long-limbed and confident in his youthful glory, had made her joints ping with phantom arthritis pain. It was exactly what she told Ellen she was afraid of happening.

As he sat down, she had been all prepared to be flustered and painfully self-conscious, apologizing for not being the younger woman he had obviously been expecting and say she wasn’t demanding anything from him, but before she knew it he was sticking out his hand, introducing himself and asking for her name in return, and then he asked for the most extraordinary thing of all: “So, tell me, Jody, a gorgeous woman like yourself has got to know a few good books. Got any recommendations?” Somehow, they got to discussing everything from Neil Gaiman to Kresley Cole, Adam offering input just as much as Jody, even going so far as to compliment her on her _excellent tastes_. When the buzzer rang, he wished her a good night with a delicate kiss to her hand (Jody was positive her maroon face could be seen from space) and left his number with her, saying he would love to see her again from coffee. If she ever met her, Jody would have to thank Adam Milligan’s mom for raising that boy right. 

               There had been a string of other men after Adam, some less boring than others (although Cain Knight, for all the world looking like a Hell’s Angel, had had some interesting tips on beekeeping to share with Jody). The fourth ‘date,’ however, had been a much more familiar face.

               _“Bobby!” Jody exclaimed as she glanced up from her drink, her face breaking into an excited smile. “This is unexpected!” she lied._

_Decked out in suit that probably hadn’t seen the light of day since the Regan administration, Bobby Singer froze like a deer in headlights, caught halfway between sitting down in the chair and making a break for it. “Mills? That you?” he asked in gruff disbelief, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates when he got a load of her outfit, and Jody didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended. “I didn’t recognize you without the beige.”_

_“Why? Would you have skipped me if you had?” she asked, half teasing and half genuinely curious._

_“Depends,” Bobby answered, still eyeing her warily. “You here to take me in, Mills?” The only tip off Jody got that this was Bobby’s way of lightening the mood was the slight twitch of his lips, barely visibly behind his beard. “What’ll it be for this time, littering?”_

_Jody batted her eyelashes coquettishly. “Well, how else am I supposed to get you to be my date for the night?”_

_Bobby snorted. “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not all that complicated. Beer and a pizza works pretty well on me. Don’t even have to have toppings.”_

_“Well, I doubt we can get a pizza here in fifteen minutes or less, but we can order you a beer.” Jody patted the table. “Take a load off, Bobby.”_

_Realizing there’s nothing for it, Bobby sheepishly took his seat, placing his hands on the table. The tips of his fingers were pink, Jody noticed, as though they’d been recently scrubbed vigorously to rid themselves of their usual motor oil. When he caught Jody staring, Bobby hastily slipped his hands off the table and out of sight._

_"You, er, look nice,” he said gruffly, actually meeting her gaze head on, and coming from a man like Bobby, that was high praise._

_“Thank you kindly. You’re looking pretty spiffy there yourself,” Jody returned sincerely, although she chose not to comment on the suspiciously dark spot on the sleeve of his suit jacket._

_Blushing like a boiled lobster, Bobby fidgeted under Jody’s unwavering gaze. “Well, don’t go getting used to this,” he blustered, gesturing down at himself. “This crime against fashion is only for the night. Then it’s going straight in the nearest dumpster and burned.”_

_Jody ducked her head, smiling ruefully. “I don’t mean to stare. But you gotta admit, this is the last place I’d ever expect to see Bobby Singer. Kinda like seeing a goldfish that’s decided to go for a stroll on the beach. “Seriously, when was the last time I saw your hair? ’05?”_

_“Har-har,” Bobby snipped back, but he was smiling now, easing back into the sharp-tongued banter that had become familiar to them after all these years. “I know you might find this hard to believe, but I actually do know the function of a comb. Mine still even has a few teeth left.” His gaze turned abruptly shifty, and he surreptitiously looked around before leaning closer. “You, uh, won’t go spilling the beans that I was here tonight, right? You know these sort of shindigs aren’t really up my alley, but I don’t understand that newfangled Twinder or Tinder or whatever they call it.”_

_“Scout’s honor,” she promised, going so far as to make the three-fingered gesture._

_Looking marginally relieved, Bobby picked up a drinks menu, perusing it with a critical frown. “Think I might have to upgrade from my usual rotgut for this evening. Care to join me –?”_

_“Ellen’s here, too, did you know that?” Jody said without preamble, propping her chin in her hands as she watched Bobby intently._

_She was not disappointed; Bobby promptly fumbled the menu, somehow managing to knock over his empty glass at the same time. “Oh – She, uh, she is, is she?” he stammered, one hand retrieving his glass while the other went up to fiddle with his trucker hat before remembering it isn’t there. “She, uh . . . That’s, uh . . . You know if she still needs help with her plumbing?”_

               The next eleven minutes had been spent shooting the crap between them, with Jody slipping in not-so-subtle hints that Ellen was looking forward to seeing him, and by the time Bobby left, with a promise from Bobby that he’d give the cruiser a free tune-up next time she stopped by, there had been a definite spring in his step.

                It’s pretty sad that that just might end up being the highlight of her evening.

               _There's not enough tequila in the world to make this ‘date’ any more bearable_ , Jody thinks as she takes a sip from her martini, eyes glazed over as her neighbor across from her, a balding man with a salt-and-pepper beard and a black suit named Fergus Crowley, drones on and on in a rough-as-sandpaper British accent (Since when did Sioux Falls get such an influx of Brits?) about  _his meteoric rise as a CEO in so-and-so communications company_ and how he's worth  _more money than a small-town girl can possibly dream of_ and _blah blah blibbity blah_. To say he's insufferable is putting it mildly. Oh, he had started off nice enough, all flowery compliments and smoldering gaze – Jody’s weak enough to admit he’s hot, like _really_ hot – but all it had taken was a few minutes of his insipid yannering to realize the number one person in the Crowley’s world is Crowley, and one more person would be a crowd.

                _At least Ellen seems to be enjoying herself_ , Jody thinks smugly as her eyes flicker to the table across the dining room from her, identical down to the flickering wax candle and the cheesy rose petals (fake, of course) scattered across the white tablecloth. Although Ellen’s back is to her, Jody has no problem seeing Bobby, who is smiling hugely like he’s been offered a new V-8 engine – yes, Bobby Singer actually smiling, miracles do happen. It’s a soft, open expression Jody hasn't seen since Karen Singer passed, bless her soul, and Jody thinks it’s a good look on Bobby, and that he’ll be equally good for Ellen (and if not, hey, Jody can always threaten to put a speed trap right outside his junkyard). They’re leaning towards each other, chatting animatedly, and although Jody is ecstatic for both of them, she does indeed feel a pang of jealousy.

               She casually wonders if she could get away with texting Jimmy under her table. The only thing that stops her is not the thought that Crowley could catch her and get angry, but that Jimmy might not want his own weekend night interrupted.

               Jody lets her gaze drift some more out of boredom, smirking when it lands on another table not far from her own. It seems the rules are already being broken: at the table is a woman with mahogany hair, laughing and offering a sip of her drink with another woman whose hair is a frankly startling shade of red. Her voice carries across the room enough that Jody can pick up on the Scottish accent. _Ruby and Rowena_ , Jody suddenly remembers, although she hadn’t caught their last names during introductions. Their fingers are defiantly entangled on the table, in plain sight, and Jody inwardly applauds, although a part of here wonders how the remaining men are getting along.  

               "I'm sorry, am I boring you?" Crowley asks rudely in a voice loud enough to carry, and several tables around them glance their way while pretending not to. Jody’s back instinctively stiffens, her grip tightening on her glass. She recognizes that tone – she’s heard it countless times from countless domestic disturbance calls.

                "As a matter of fact, you are," Jody replies tersely, not bothering to pretend otherwise. She notes with pleasure that Rude British Guy’s face is slowly getting redder behind his salt-and-pepper beard. He opens his mouth again, no doubt about to remind her exactly who he is and why he should be respected, but Jody cuts him off. "You know what? I really don't think this is the gig for you, seeing as you're clearly already in love with the sound of your own voice. Maybe you should just skip the middleman and go fuck yourself." She takes a page out of Donna’s book and smiles sweetly at him for good measure.

               Jody expects another scathing remark, but instead Crowley shoots her a look of pure venom, like he’s deciding whether to slap her or spit in her drink. She steadily stares him down, confident she can handle a Bond villain reject, although she’d really prefer not to make a scene, if only for Ellen’s sake.

               Thankfully, sometimes clichés are clichés because they really are true, and the buzzer sounds at that precise moment. From somewhere close to the lobby, Balthazar's lilting voice calls out, "Gentlemen, move to the right!"

               Crowley, however, doesn’t rise from his seat, despite the clamor around them. “You and I aren’t finished yet,” he informs her in a low, ominous voice that sounds nearly demonic, raising the hairs on the back of Jody’s neck in warning.

               Jody just sneers at him. 

               “That’s where you’d be wrong,” a gloriously familiar voice says calmly. Startled, Jody looks sharply up to see Jimmy Novak standing beside her table, dressed in a dark blue three-piece suit like he literally stepped out of a photoshoot for _GQ_. His voice is filled with a warmth that touches her skin like a caress, as are his eyes where they’re fixed unwaveringly on her, but his knuckles are white where they grip the back of Crowley’s chair, right next to the bastard’s neck. “Evening, Sheriff.”

               Crowley does glance up at that, face slowly draining of its color.  “Come again?”

               Jimmy glances down at Crowley, grinning toothily. “Oh, you didn’t know? Why, Jody here is the Sheriff of this fine town. Isn’t that right, Jody?”

               “Mm-hmm,” Jody confirms, staring Crowley down. “Handcuffs and all.”

               Crowley seems to consider that for a moment, weighing his options, before shaking his head and pushing away from the table to forfeit his seat. “To hell with you two. Frankly, my dear,” he tells coolly Jody, “you aren’t worth the trouble.” Brushing nonexistent dust from his suit, Crowley looks up at Jimmy, still managing to look dismissive even though Jimmy, who has several inches on Crowley, has dropped his collected façade to glare daggers at the Brit. “She’s all yours, mate.”

               Stepping forward, Jimmy opens his mouth for what would have no doubt been a scathing retort, but Jody cuts him off before all three of them get tossed out on their asses. “Oh, I have no doubt I’ll be seeing you around soon, Fergus.”

               Crowley’s face goes ashen, and he darkly mutters something about, “Not if my lawyers have anything to say about that,” before storming right out of the lobby, the woman at the table to Jody’s left watching him leave with visible relief.

               When Jody looks back, Jimmy is still standing, staring stonily at doors where Crowley exited, clenched fist shaking slightly. “He shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

               “No, he shouldn’t have,” Jody agrees. “Doesn’t matter, though, because by my reckoning –” She glances down at her watch “– we’ve only got about thirteen and a half minutes left, and you still have to explain to me what in the world you’re doing here. Come, sit.”

               Jimmy grins sheepishly at that, dutifully following Jody’s order and taking a seat. “As you wish," he says with the somber formality only someone who's seen _The Princes Bride_ many, many times would use. "Before we start, can I just say that you look . . ." Jimmy seems at a complete lost for words, which is flattering enough all on its own, but eventually he settles for, " _amazing_."

              It’s several seconds before Jody can manage a coherent answer, her mouth doing this funny thing where it can’t decide if it wants to laugh or stretch into a big, dopey grin the size of Texas. "Thanks. You don't clean up too bad there yourself," Jody says as smoothly as she can manage, even though she's internally screaming, on loop, _Hot hot hot. Oh my god he's so fucking hot!  I just want to throw him down on the floor and ride him like he's the last lifeboat off the Titanic!_ “Nice suit.”

               Now it's Jimmy's turn to blush, running a self-conscious hand down his chest to fiddle with his stripped tie that does a wonderful job of bringing out the blue in his eyes. “Thank you. It’s was my brother’s, actually,” he admits, and then continues to ramble on adorably. “It was a gift from his boyfriend two Christmases ago, but Cas has put on more muscle recently, so he’s lending it to me.”

               "He has good taste,” Jody comments as she takes a sip from her drink, pretending not to notice Jimmy furtively watching where her lips touch the rim of the glass. “So . . .”

               “So . . .?” Jimmy prompts, eyes already crinkling into the beginnings of a smile.

               Jody looks away first, tracing a rose petal with her finger. “So I must say this is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here, hot stuff.”

               "Hot stuff?" Jimmy breaks into a gummy smile that Jody's face tries to match. His laugh is absolutely wonderful, Jody thinks, not for the first time. "Exactly how much have you had to drink?”

               “Just enough to make a first prize idiot of myself, apparently,” Jody says with a slight giggle, not tipsy but definitely feeling a little punch-drunk, although she suspects Jimmy is the culprit more than the alcohol. “I’ve had a long night, though, so you’re not allowed to judge me.” She pauses and points an accusing finger at him. “But also no changing the subject.”

               Jimmy grimaces. “This wasn’t my idea, I can assure you. About a month ago, my brother had gotten it into his head that I’m lonely or something, and for the last month he’s been subtly hinting that he thinks I should get out more. Well, as subtle as Cas ever can be,” he amends with a roll of his eyes, though his expression is unmistakably fond, “which means clogging my inbox with emails about things like this." He gives Jody an arch look. "Which if you knew my brother, you’d know what a complete hypocrite he’s being.”

               “How so?” Jody asks, genuinely interested.

               “Let’s put it this way: Cas’s idea of a Saturday night is binge-watching Netflix with Dean while reading  _War and Peace._ Social butterfly, he is not . . . So I more or less picked tonight because Claire’s at a sleepover. Hopefully afterwards Cas will stop making these pitiful eyes at me, like he thinks I'm going to die alone with six cats and a TV dinner in front of me." Jimmy makes a face. "I never noticed how insufferable people that are in sappy, lovey-dove love are until I found myself single.”

                "Don't I know it," Jody mutters ruefully. “Sounds like getting out of the house might have been a good thing after all."

                “You have no idea,” Jimmy replies with grimace. “But enough about me. Now it’s your turn to tell me what made you decide to drop the gun for the dress tonight.”

                 Jody raises an eyebrow coyly. “What makes you think there isn’t a gun under here?”

                 His eyes widen immediately. "Wait - do you really? Does that mean you’re here undercover?  _Is there an illegal gambling ring under the restaurant_?” he whispers conspiratorially, his eyes glittering with boyish excitement.

                 “Relax, Sherlock. I'm just here as a wing-girl. This is all my friend Ellen’s doing,” Jody explains, and she doesn’t miss how something imperceptible about Jimmy relaxes. Somehow they’ve up both ended up inclined inwards toward each other, like two parentheses, in their shared conspiracy. Their hands are inches from touching, Jody's fingertips skimming across the tablecloth just a hair’s breath from Jimmy's as he slumps closer.

                "So, I guess if you aren't here to find love in fifteen minutes," Jimmy says slowly, a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, "that probably means you wouldn't be interested in getting out of here and doing something else. With me."

                "I didn't say that," Jody says quietly, and Jimmy's answering smile is blinding.

                He leans forward suddenly, speaking in a hushed, hurried whisper. His eyes are two twin blue flames alight with excitement. "Will your friend be okay with you taking a quick break? We can come back before it's over."

               "Lemme check." Without pause, Jody ducks down to whip her phone from her handbag.

                _So that guy I mentioned, the cake? He’s /here/ now, and we might go get some fresh air, you all good here?_ she types hurriedly. 

               _Well why the hell are you even still doing here? Waiting for dessert?? Don’t worry bout me, Bobby will give me a lift. Go get some ‘fresh air’, grl!_

                Jody smiles. Slipping her phone back in her purse, she looks up at an expectant Jimmy."You know what? Yeah, let's get the hell outta here."

                Jimmy laughs uproariously, a delicious sound that Jody needs to hear again, and takes Jody by the hand, pulling her with him as they all but run out of the restaurant, stopping only to grab Jody's coat. Distantly, Jody thinks she hears Balthazar calling indignantly for them to come back, but she can hardly hear him over the rush of blood pounding through her ears, through her entire body. Has she ever felt more  _alive_?

               "Okay, here's where my brilliant plan falls apart," Jimmy confesses with a sheepish smile when they make it outside into the parking lot, breathing in the crisp evening air that brings a flush to both their faces. "I have no idea where we are, and I just remembered I took a taxi to get here."

               Jody smirks. "Car in the shop still?"

               "Hey, be nice to my car," Jimmy retorts teasingly. "Old Faithful's very sensitive."

               Between fits of giggling, Jody manages, " _Please_ tell me you chose that name for irony."

              "Claire chose it actually, though in hindsight I think she was just being a smartass."

               "Alright, then."  Biting her lip, Jody whips her head around, getting her bearings. "Follow me. I've got an idea."

              It's not that much of a walk to McKennan Park, but Jody and Jimmy take their time, strolling at a leisurely pace past streetlamps that emit a soft orange glow and shops that are closed for the night, Jody's heels click-clacking on the pavement. The night air is warm, not too humid, and the small number of passerby give the pair an illusion of privacy. They don't talk much on their way to the park, shooting the breeze about the little things that have happened in their lives since they last saw each other, the sort of things that don't feel relevant enough during their sporadic texts but feel natural to say face-to-face. Jody learns that Claire's soccer team will be going to the state semi-finals in a few week, and in turn Jody shares that Alex, well, Alex was being forced to study each night under Jody's watchful eye until she was allowed to return to school. Jimmy handled learning about Alex's suspension remarkably well, even sharing about the time Claire had gotten annoyed with an incredibly pigheaded teacher back in Pontiac, calling him 'a fascist' in front of the entire class and earning a two-day suspension. 

               "Did the guy deserve it?" Jody asks.

               "He was the kind of teacher that for whatever reason wouldn't let the kids take more than one bathroom break a week," Jimmy says with an uncharacteristically hard tone. "So yeah, I'd say it was justified." But then his face clears, and he smiles ruefully at Jody. "I know you worry about her, but Alex seems like a good girl. Maybe not in sticking strictly to the rules, but in all the ways that really matter."

               Once they make it to the park, they eventually come upon a little secluded wooden area, with park benches and a little stone fountain. The fountain is of a angel with water spurting from its cupped hands, lit up by miniature spotlights. The bubbling water, combined with the singing crickets and night birds in the surrounding trees, makes for a rather pleasant background soundtrack.

              " _Wow_." Jimmy whistles appreciatively, hands shoved in his pockets as he swings his head around to take in the greenery. "You really know how to set a mood. I gotta say, I'm feeling a little threatened right now. I was gonna suggest we go _bowling_." 

               "Then you really would have been in trouble," Jody says mildly, taking a seat on the dry wood bench and looking coyly up at Jimmy. "I throw a pretty mean strike."

                Jimmy laughs as he takes a seat beside her on the bench, keeping a distance between them that Jody suspects Jimmy thinks is polite and appropriate for a first date (even thinking the word gives her a pleasant jolt of nerves), but as it's not remotely what she wants, she scoots closer until her hips touch his. He notices, though he doesn't seem to correctly guess her intentions. "You okay, right? Not too cold for you? You can have my jacket -" he starts, already shrugging it off.

               Jody lays a hand on his arm to stop him. "No, thanks. That's what I have my coat for," she points out gently.

              Blushing pink as he ducks his head, Jimmy grins sheepishly. "Sorry. I guess you can take the boy out of the church, but you can never take the Christian manners out of the boy." He notes the non-existent space between them, his lips quirking. "Or antiquated ideas of propriety, apparently."

               "Does this bother you?" she asks curiously. "If we're going to fast, we can pull on the brakes." 

               "I didn't say that," he chuckles, and Jody smiles at the callback until she thinks her cheeks will be sore in the morning. They sit like they for a few minutes, quietly enjoying the other's company and the ambiance of the park, their own little world made secluded and private. While Jody's never been much of a romantic, even she can admit it's pretty damn perfect.

               "I must say, tonight's turning out a lot better than a thought it would," Jody remarks. "I always thought best-case scenario was that I'd meet a guy but we'd never meet up afterwards, worst-case scenario that I'd pick up a stalker or two for my troubles."

               Jimmy chuckles, slipping his arm behind Jody to drag his thumb up and down her neck. "Same. Er, well, not quite the same. My worse-case scenario was a girl's boyfriend finding her there and beating me up but I think I might have allowed my anxieties to run away on that one . . . It's just nice to have you to myself for once, even if it's only for a little while. I . . ." Jimmy ducks his head self-consciously, "I feel like I'm always having to share you."

               "Well, you have about an hour left of not sharing me. Lots we could do in that time . . . " Jody trails off suggestively, daring to trail the very tips of her fingers down his knee.

               "What do you . . . Oh! _Oh_. You mean like - getting a hotel room and - um," Jimmy stammers, blushing furiously as he stumbles over his tongue for every word, and instantly Jody knows she's overstepped her boundaries. She just barely stops from yanking her hand back,  flushing all the way from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair.

               "We could," she agrees neutrally, transitioning smoothly into, "Or we can just continue like this. This doesn't have to be the last time we get each other to ourselves. C'mon, I want to know more about the very _mysterious_ Jimmy Novak."

                Slightly mollified, Jimmy jokes feebly, "I'm afraid you're going to be scraping the bottom of the barrel pretty soon. There's not that much left about me that's interesting, unless you're really interested in learning about my favorite color or why in middle school I was afraid of tiny dogs."

                "Hmm, tempting." Jody taps a finger against her chin."How about you tell me what you meant by 'take the boy out of the church'. You religious?"

               "Was," Jimmy states, clearly sounding unhappy, and too late Jody realizes she should have stuck with her offer of sex. He clears his throat roughly before asking, "What would you say if I told you that back in Pontiac I was as devout a Christian as they come? Church every Sunday, prayer before meals, the whole nine-yards."

               Rearing back, Jody eyes Jimmy up and down with what she pretends is a critical eye. "I would say that wouldn't be too far of a stretch," she says adamantly as she snuggles back up close. "It's not like you have to worry about me minding or anything. I'm not able to go as often as I once was, but I still make time for Saturday mass at least once a month."

             Abruptly, Jimmy makes a snorting, derisive laugh, jarring Jody against his side. "Really? And, uh . . . how's that working out for you?" and something about his tone rankles, sets Jody's teeth on edge.

              "As a matter, just fine," Jody retorts calmly, a defensive edge to her tone. "I needed something that made sense to me, gave me peace, you know, comfort, I guess. I'm not saying it's for anyone, but before I found Alex, I found church to be one of the few things from my old life that didn't hurt." Jimmy remains quiet at her side, unnaturally still, but even she can tell it's a dubious silence, bordering on pitying. What?" she demands, irrationally irked.

              "I just thought that, of all people, you might be the only one to have a reason to hate God more than me," he says quietly, having the gall to sound _disappointed_ in her.        

            Jerking away from him, she fires back, "What exactly the hell's that supposed to mean?"    

               It's shocking, how fast Jimmy, mild-mannered, bumbling Jimmy Novak, can go from snide to belligerent in the space of seconds, and Jody finds herself entranced by the raw _pain_  brimming in his eyes. "I'm asking you, Jody, how can you still believe in any form of higher power when you've been forced to bury both your husband and _child_  -" his voice breaks on the word, "-on the same day," Jimmy bites out, incredulous. 

             Jody recoils as though he physically slapped her in the face. "I don't see how it's any of your business," she remarks coldly. Jaw clenched, Jimmy pointedly looks away from her, in they sit there in the bench in tense silence until Jody can't take it any longer. Taking Jimmy's hands in hers, she tries in a as reasonable tone she can manage, "I don't know what gotten into you, but if you're willing to pull back for just a damn second and be reasonable, maybe you can tell me why my personal belief in God brothers you so much."

              "It's not so much that you believe in Him so much that you still believe He isn't just out to put a magnifying glass on us just to burn us up," Jimmy explains, bitterness in every line of his features.

            "So you do believe...?" Jody prods, having no idea where Jimmy is going with any of this.

              Jimmy scoffs, pulling away from her. "Oh ho, trust me. I stopped believing in God when the day I found out my wife had been having an affair with our next-door neighbor for the last year and a half. And you wanna know the kicker, Jody?" he asks with a slightly deranged smile. She doesn't, but Jimmy doesn't ask for permission before continuing. "The day she was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer was the day before I had planned to file for divorce. So, you see, there is a God, Jody, but what they don't want you to know is that he's a petty bastard just like the rest of us."

                "Does Claire know?" Jody ask once she manages to pry her hand away from her mouth, in a voice she hardly recognizes as her own.

                 "No. And it's going to stay that way," Jimmy says adamantly. "Let her remember her mother the way she chooses to. I don't even know how I'll one day explain that God was punishing her daddy for spending to much time away at work when he should have been looking after his family."

                  ". . . Is that it, then?" Jody demands, incredulous, refusing to balk when Jimmy looks up at her, a spark of anger rekindling in his expression. "You're going to hold it against me that I don't hold anyone, myself included, accountable for Sean and Owen's death?"

                 Sighing heavily in exhaustion, Jimmy shakes his head slowly, pushing his hair back off his face. "I just thought _you_ would understand. I'm so tired of being alone in my hatred."

                 "Well, I'm sorry I don't want to join your pity party," Jody says stiffly. "I've had enough of my own these last few years."

                 Slumping forward like he's crumbling from the inside, Jimmy buries his face in his hand, rubbing wearily at his face. Jody only watches mutely, hands clenching spasmodically in her lap, his voice is muffled, but not enough for Jody to miss his expelled sigh. "This was a mistake."

                  Jumping to her feet like nail had suddenly been placed under her seat, Jody briskly brushes herself off without, "In that case, I should probably just be on my way, then. Ellen's my ride home."

                 That gets Jimmy to finally look up her, blue eyes wide in surprise, and for a moment Jody can't extinguish the hope that Jimmy will come to his senses, that he'll apologize and allow Jody in. But then his face settles back into its stoic expression, and dashes Jody's hopes. "At least, let me call a cab and wait with you until it gets her," he offers gruffly, but tonight Jody finds Jimmy's chivalry grating and childish, and it's more than she can take.

                  "Whatever you think would be for the best," Jody says numbly, shivering as though she can physically feel the temperature drop ten degrees from the frigidness that's suddenly gathered around them. 

                 They don't speak to each other for the next twenty minutes as they wait, and it's easiest the longest, most uncomfortable twenty minutes of Jody's life. She feels herself trapped by that relatively small pocket of time, barely able to process more than the most basic of functions. _Breathe in, breathe out . . . breathe in, breathe out . . ._

                  It's only when Jody's alone at the steakhouse parking lot, watching the lights of the cab disappear around the corner, Jimmy's head a dark shadow visible from the backseat, that she finally allows herself to think, and the first thought she dazedly churns out is,  _What the hell just happened_?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't care enough to research how a Sheriff's office works different than a police department does, so I'm mostly going off what I've seen in the show. If you're a stickler for these kind of things, I'm sorry and I'll do better next time.

 

                And so, life lurches on. After the disastrous speed-dating meet-up, Jody throws herself back into the swing of things with single-minded determination in a rather pitiful attempt to take her mind off her dying love life, and for a while, it works. Days are filled down at the station battling the daily grind and protecting her town from traffic violators and the occasional acne-riddled, highschool-dropout-turned-pot-dealer who thinks himself the next Walter White, as well as dodging invasive questions from well-meaning coworkers about when Jody next plans on seeing 'her man' again. The questions eventually give way to worried looks from Victor and Donna that Jody pretends not to see. Alex returns to school with surprisingly little resistance, and Jody feels like she can breathe a little easier. That is, until Alex oh-so-casually asks one evening if Jimmy will be having dinner with them one night soon. When Jody hesitantly answers that she doesn't think so, Alex just shrugs like it doesn't much matter to her, but it's barely five minutes later that she's excusing herself from dinner, washing her plate off in the sink and retreating to her room for the night, leaving a rather bewildered Jody behind. Jody's beginning to think she'll never understand teenagers. 

               In all that time, Jimmy never once reaches out to her, not even after Jody caves after five excruciating days of radio silence and calls him up herself only to get his chipper voicemail, telling Jody he’s terribly sorry for not being able to the phone right now, but until he can get back, have a fantastic day! It's only when Jody feels the first outpouring of relief incited from simply hearing his voice - even tinny in her ear - for the first time in days that Jody begins to get an inkling of just how far James Novak has been able to burrow his way under her skin, which really  _sucks_ , because by the time Jody starts to admit to herself that maybe, just maybe, she had been starting to feel something for the man, days have turned into weeks and still Jimmy hasn't called her. After that, there’s nothing for Jody to do but reluctantly come to the conclusion that their acquaintance has naturally run its course. Well, she thinks decisively, that’s that. It had been good while it lasted, but it’s time to go back to being a grown-up. She has a town to protect and a teenage daughter to raise and she’s well past the point of her life where she can just fool around with whomever she likes, damn the consequences. In a strange way, it’s almost a relief . . . Better to have stopped it before it even started. You can lose what you never had, right?

               Two long, dreary weeks have passed when Jody finds herself sitting alone in her and Victor’s shared office late one night, chipping away at a mess of paperwork that has obscured the entire surface of her desk. Rain patters against the small window that sits high on the wall of the small room, and the wind can be heard whistling outside – a storm is about to blow in soon. The modest-sized room is dark save for the dim light of the desk lamp, as Jody never bothered to get up and switch the overhead light on when the bastard sun finally set and stole away its light. Her eyes itch with exhaustion – it was past midnight when she last checked the time, and that had to be nearly half an hour ago.

               Judging by the supremely skeptical look she receives in the mirror every morning, not even Jody is buying what she's selling.  _Or maybe you're just getting old_ , is a bitter thought that crosses her mind more often than not lately, and she's having one helluva time shaking it off. 

               Jody’s phone buzzes at that moment, skittering slightly across the wooden desk. She doesn’t even hesitate before picking it up, as she’s long since given hope of hearing from the one person she wants to talk to more than anyone else.

                A text message. It’s Victor, and a pang of guilt stabs at Jody.

               _You gonna be much longer, boss? Only I’d like to head on home sometime this evening._

               _Just an hour more, two tops_ , Jody types back, biting her lip and feeling like the world’s biggest ass. _Thanks for looking after Alex again, Vic. I own you BIG TIME._

               His next message takes a little longer, as though Victor is choosing his words carefully. _It wasn’t actually all that bad. Girl beat the pants off me in gin rummy . . . Also I might have taught her how to break out of handcuffs. Accidentally._

Jody chuckles to herself even as something not dissimilar to homesickness stirs deep in her gut. _I’ll be home soon. Promise._

_I’ll hold you to that, Sheriff. Just . . . try not to push yourself too hard, okay?_

_Why, Vic, I didn’t know you cared._

_I don’t. I just don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel during patrol and killing us both._ His next message appears before she’s done reading the first one _. You do know I can totally get Ellen to beat up Novak for you, right?_

_Good-night, Victor._

               Switching her phone off and tossing it aside, Jody sighs wearily, utterly exhausted, and leans back as far as her chair allows to rub the grit from eyes. She throws her arms up and stretches, and her back cracks satisfyingly.

               “Boy. You sure do look like you could use a cuppa.”

               Jody looks up to see Donna at the peeking from behind the office door, a steaming mug of hopefully something caffeinated in each hand. She nearly slumps in gratitude, already making grabby hands. “Donna, have I ever told you that you’re a saint?”

               “Oh, you could stand to mention it a bit more often,” Donna teases gently, walking carefully into office so as not to spill. “One coffee, cream and two sugars for you, mocha frappe for me. Extra whipped cream, of course.”

               “I don’t know how you can survive off that weak stuff,” Jody observes, scrunching her nose as she accepts her mug. “I can barely make it through the day without a quart of caffeine. Maybe I should just try injecting the stuff," she jokes weakly, and Donna, bless her too pure heart, chuckles loyally. Or hell, maybe she actually finds it funny, who can tell with Donna?

               Jody blows against the surface of her mug before taking a careful sip. “Mmm. You know, I could get you promoted for this.”

               “You’re welcome, Chief,” is all Donna says, but Jody sees the dimpled smile before Donna takes a sip from her own mug.

               They lapse into temporary silence, but it's comfortable rather than awkward, cozy in the enclosed space of Jody's office, but Jody knows it's fragile, and will break at any second, judging by how Donna keeps shooting nervous glance at Jody over the rim of her mug. For a moment, Jody considers ignoring Donna until she gets to whatever it is she came here for or - better yet - leaves, but it's late, and Jody knows that Donna just gonna corner Jody at another time, one way or the other.    

               “Donna, didn’t your shift end hours ago?" she asks pointedly, shuffling some papers on her desk around. “You know a department this small can afford to dole out only so many overtime hours.”

               Donna waves a careless hand, a dab of whipped cream resting on her upper lip. "Oh, no worries there, Jodio. This wasn’t on the books or anything. I was just, uh, providing an extra set of eyes,” she says evasively, taking another sip of her coffee to avoid Jody’s gaze. It doesn’t take her keen instincts that made her a cop in the first place to make Jody think that the blush in Donna’s cheeks isn’t from the heat rising from her coffee.

               “ _Just_ a set of eyes?” Jody prods with a teasing smirk.

               “ _No._ I mean _, yes._ For Pete’s sake . . .” Donna mutters exasperatedly, though it lacks heat. “Officer Lafitte simply asked for my assistance combing through some security footage for a smash and grab. Absolutely no funny business," Donna explains primly. "Anyways, it was no biggie to stay a bit late – it’s not like there’s anything at place to look forward to besides my cat.” She chuckles, but it’s a hollow, self-deprecating sound.

               “Oh, _Benny_ , huh?” Jody says, her gloating smile only growing. She leans back in her chair, eyeing Donna speculatively. “He's a pretty good cook, did you know that?” she adds conversationally. “Makes a mean gumbo."

              Donna makes a scrunched-up cat face at her. "Oh, you'd just like that, wouldn't you?" she scolds, though not like she's angry much. On the contrary, she's blushing again, and the corners of her lips twitch. "Having the foreigners hook up so we can make little Cajun-Minnesota babies. Can you imagine the accents?"  They both burst into giggles at that, and for a precious moment, Jody feels lighter than she has all week. Which, of course, is when Donna decides to squeak in and make her move. "Say Benny and I did become an item . . . Does that mean we get to go to Couples’ Night down at the Goofy-Golf with you and Jimmy? Groups get a free bonus round.”

               The temperature in the room seems to drop twenty degrees, but maybe that’s just from the chill in Jody’s voice.  “I wouldn’t know,” she says tersely, blatantly hedging as she brings her attention back to her work. “Jimmy and I haven’t spoken in a while.”

               “Oh.” Donna takes a moment to absorb that, taking another sip from her mocha. “Been busy, have you?” she asks with noticeably controlled lightness. It’s strikingly similar to how people used to talk to her after Sean and Owen died; it still makes Jody’s skin itch. “You know, Jodio, just because you’re the head honcho around here doesn’t mean you have to shoulder all the work yourself.” She makes a feeble chuckle. “Pretty sure we won’t blow the place up if you wanted to take a week off to spend some quality time with your fella –”

               “It’s not that, Donna,” Jody says quickly, eyes catching Donna’s gaze before flickering away in shame. It’s only when she catches Donna’s flinch that she realizes it came out harsher than she meant.

               Donna’s brow puckers in confusion. “Then what -?”

               “We had a fight,” Jody admits unwillingly, keeping her words short and clipped. “After the – the dumb speed-dating thing at Max’s. I met him there by chance, and we left early to go for a walk, and –” Jody exhales sharply in frustration, running a hand back through her hair “– I still don’t know what the hell happened, but we both said some stupid things and well – that’s that.” Jody shrugs, already bracing for Donna’s imminent disappointment in her, for _Oh, Jodio, and he was such a looker too._

What she doesn’t expect Donna to say, quite incredulously, is, “So? What’s that got to do with anything?”

               Jody just shakes her head, exhausted in ways she can’t put into words. “You weren’t there, Donna, you didn’t see his face. It’s just –” She hesitates, wondering how much is too much for her to divulge. “Jimmy’s a widow as well,” she admits quietly, “and a pretty recent one at that. I don’t think he’s ready to let her go just yet. Trust me, the best thing I can do for him now is give him space.”

               “Did Jimmy ask you for space or did you just decide what was best for him by yourself?” Donna asks, and while her tone isn’t exactly accusing, it’s definitely pointed.

                Jody remembers Jimmy’s despondent face before she had climbed into that cab. “The decision was mutual, believe me.”

               Donna nods slowly, chewing on her cheek before looking Jody straight in the eyes. “All due respect, Jody, but that’s a load of cow patties.”

               Jody blinks, too stunned to react. “Excuse me?”

               “Oh, you heard me,” Donna says, actually lifting her chin. “You’ve been walking around this office the last few weeks like you’ve gone and won the lottery ever since you met that man and for what? First sign of trouble in paradise and you’re turning tail?” she asks in disbelief, a faint red tinge now coloring her plump cheeks. “Now that’s just not the Jody Mills I know.”

               “Donna –”

               But Donna continues heedlessly, “So you had a fight – big whup! I didn’t realize that meant automatically breaking up. If this was me in your shoes and you in mine, you’d be telling me to get up off my fanny and do something about it, not sit around on my butt, wallowing in my pity! Just – what the fudge, Jody?”

               She stops, breathing like she’s just run a mile.

               Instead of snapping back at her, Jody just stares Donna down long enough for Donna to realize her grave error. Indeed, she watches with grim satisfaction as the blood drains from Donna’s face, leaving her white as a sheet.

               “Oh sweet Christmas on toast,” she breathes, squeezing her eyes shut. “Tell me I didn’t just yell my head off at my boss.”

               “Oh, you did,” Jody confirms. “Got it all out of your system?”

              Eyes still closed, Donna nods vigorously. “Yep. Shutting up now. I’ll just – just go clear off my desk now.” She begins to grope blindly for the door handle.

              Jody holds strong for all of two seconds before crumbling. “Donna, wait.” She sighs, finally setting down her pen. Across from her, Donna opens one eye hopefully. “You’re not . . . you’re not in trouble. Not to say that that wasn’t wildly inappropriate, but . . . I appreciate your concern. Besides, you . . . you didn’t say anything that wasn’t strictly untrue,” she admits, smiling wryly.

               No longer faced with getting canned makes Donna brave enough to give her a self-satisfied smirk. “Darn tootin’.”

               “But don’t press your luck,” Jody warns with a frown, and Donna tightly presses her lips together, the corners twitching.

               “Would asking you to please consider calling Jimmy be considered pressing my luck?” Donna asks.

               Jody rubs at her temples. “Look, Donna, I know you have good intentions, but on this . . .” she hesitates, then says, “I’m asking you to stay out of it. Please. For me. It’s hard enough as it is. ”

               A flicker of pain breaks across Donna’s face, and Jody instantly feels like a complete heel, but lo and behold Donna surprises Jody again, setting her coffee down on Jody’s desk and moving to lay a commiserating hand on Jody’s shoulder, squeezing the knotted muscle. “I know you like to think of yourself as a one-woman, butt-kicking machine, Jodio, but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer in silence. I’ll support whatever decision you make, just like you’ve always done for me.”

               Smiling soppily, Jody places her hand on Donna’s, patting her knuckles. “Thanks, Donna. You ever going to stop surprising me?”

               Donna smiles until her dimples pop. “Oh, I think not. Someone around here needs to keep you on your toes.”

               A distant crash outside of Jody’s office shatters their little moment, and the proceeding shouts and angry cursing has Jody getting to her feet even before someone calls for her.

               “Wow, who do you reckon we’re getting at this late hour?” Donna asks as they move for the door, then her eyes widen. “Oh, fudge. You don’t think it’s Gabe Milton lighting firecrackers under cows again, do ya? That just ain’t _right_.”

               “Swear to god, if it is, I’m gonna stick his candy-loving ass in a cell right next to the piss-soaked drunks,” Jody mutters, pausing by her door to make sure her gun is secure in her holster before opening the door. Milton’s been known to have sticky fingers, and more than one officer has found themselves handcuffed to a desk leg with their piece missing.

               They quickly realize, however, that it is in fact _not_ Gabe Milton, when Jody and Donna come out of the office just in time to see Deputies Garth Fitzgerald and Billie Faucheuse doing their best to restrain a screaming teenage girl, the two trained officers struggling not to use excessive force as they wrangle her into the bullpen. Black hoodie obscuring her fact, she fights them every step of the way, kicking and screaming out rather rude (and frankly unimaginative) profanities concerning cops and their connection to certain farm animals. Nothing that Jody or anyone else member of law enforcement hasn’t heard screamed in their face before.

               For just a second, however, Jody is hit with a powerful sense of déjà vu that snatches her breath away, bringing her back to similar night when another teenage girl had been brought in for suspicions of prostitution, her dark hair whipping across her face in an animal-like frenzy as she glared balefully at Jody through empty eyes.

               “What’s going on here?” Jody calls out, stepping forward and putting thoughts of Alex away for another time. Unfortunately, it’s not her job to be a mom right now.

               “Miss Five-Finger Discount here thought there was a take-what-you want sale at Tran’s Boutique. What she didn’t account for was Mrs. Tran,” Billie explains briskly, barely budging when the perp tries another violent shake to free herself.

                “Nothing we can’t handle, Sheriff,” Garth adds cheerfully, equally unfazed when the girl tells him to do something anatomically impossible.

                Still being pulled forward, the girl jerks her body again in a futile attempt to escape, and it’s in that moment, when the hood of her back hood falls from her head and her wild tangles of blonde hair spill out, that Jody recognizes the girl. Her stomach flips on itself.

                 “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she breathes. “ _Claire_?”

               Thankfully the only one who hears her is Donna, who although gives Jody an odd look, knows better than to say anything. Billie and Garth remain ignorant, continuing to cart Claire off to where she’ll be held until they hear from Linda Tran on whether or not she will place charges.

               In that moment Jody makes a split-second, possibly impulsive and reckless decision. She steps forward, putting herself into Billie and Garth’s path. “Let me handle this.”

               Billie merely raises an eyebrow, surprised but thankfully not suspicious. Garth, however, flickers a confused look between the two of them. “Uh, are you sure, Boss? This could take a while. Don't you have to be getting home to your girl soon?”

               But Jody barely hears him, because Claire is looking at her now, startled at the sound of Jody’s voice, and behind all that anger and teenage bravado is very real fear in those blue eyes. Eyes the same shape and color as Jimmy's.

               “Oh _shit_ ,” Claire says, audibly.

                _Oh, shit, is right_ ,  Jody thinks grimly, meeting Claire's eyes briefly before turning her attention fully on Garth.

               “I’m sure, Deputy Fitzgerald,” Jody states clearly, pulling rank because she has no patience for pleasantries at the moment, and while Garth continues to look confused and borderline suspicious, Billie just shrugs. 

               “She’s all yours, then.” To Claire, she bends down until they're eye-level says, “Now listen up, little girl -"

                "I'm not a little girl," Claire spits venomously, glaring belligerently at Billie.

                Raising both eyebrows, a delighted grin slowly stretches across Billie's mouth. "Is that so? Does that mean you're 18? Please say you are, because nothing would make my night more than the chance to see you to be tried as an adult. Skip past all that cushy juvie nonsense and straight ahead to hard time -"

                "That's enough, Deputy Faucheuse," Jody orders firmly, barely resisting to roll her eyes at the unnecessary histrionics. 

                Billie stays locked in her staring match for a moment before pulling back, making a two-fingered salute at Jody. "Whatever you say, Boss," and Jody bristles at the underlying thread of derision in Billie's tone. "Just be careful," she warns over her shoulder. "She _bites_. C'mon, Garth. We've still got work to do." 

                All Garth can do is hand Claire over to Jody and give her an apologetic Billie-will-be-Billie shrug as an apology. "Hope it all works out for you," he tells Claire sincerely, like he didn't just arrest her for a B&E, but Jody supposes Garth has always been an odd duck like that. With a wave he totters off towards his partner, leaving Jody and Donna alone with Claire. 

                "Donna, I want you to call Linda. Get the story from her. Claire and I are going to have a little chat," Jody rattles off quickly, already directing Claire to her office with a firm hand on the middle of her back. 

               "Are - are you _sure_ , Jody? That's not exactly protocol . . ." Donna starts hesitantly, but whatever shows on Jody's face must be enough for Donna to raise her hands in surrender, backing down immediately. "Okay, that's fine. I got it, don't worry." She bustles off without another word, pausing only to throw a worried glance at Jody over her shoulder. 

               When Jody and Claire get into the office, Jody throws on some lights to make it, well, less gloomy probably isn't the word she's looking for, but it seems silly to try to speak to Claire in the dim light of a single lamp. "Take a seat, Claire. Might as well make yourself comfortable. You're probably going to be here a while."

               With a naughty sniff of disdain, Claire drops herself into the wheeled chair in front of Jody's deck, the chains of her handcuffs clinking, while Jody makes another impulsive decision and takes the seat next to Claire instead of the one on the other side of the desk.

                “Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to offer me my one phone call?" Claire asks snidely without looking at Jody, squeaking the wheels of the chair insolently across the floor.

               “That’s a movie myth, and it’s only for when you’re formally charged," Jody coolly responds, resting her chin in her folded hands as her elbows rest on her thighs, inspecting Claire closely. "Right now, we’re just talking.”

               “Talking, right,” Claire scoffs, like she really is as bored as her manner suggests. Too bad for Claire that Jody can see the slight tremor in her hands. “Is that what they’re calling interrogation these days?”

               Jody pointedly ignores the bait, instead takes the moment to scrutinize Claire intently, , comparing the potential criminal in front of her with the high school student she met briefly weeks ago. The differences, while slight, are in no way encouraging. Too heavy eyeliner, chipped fingernails, clothes that look like they’re a use away from being donated to Goodwill. Face gaunter, eyes tighter. With alarming dismay, Jody realizes how much Claire looks like the teenage runaways whose black and white pictures line the bullet board by the front door of the station.

                Meanwhile Claire squirms under the intense scrutiny, the bravado that’s got her this far beginning to run on fumes in the face of dead silence. “If you take a picture, it’ll last longer –” she snaps.

                “Claire, are you trying to run away from home?” Jody asks, point-blank. There’s no point beating around the bush, not in a situation as potentially dire as this.

               “What?” Claire demands, so shocked she momentarily forgets to be belligerent. “No, of course not! I –” Glancing down, she picks at the worn nail polish. “I wouldn’t do that to my dad. It – it’d killed him.”

               “Sorry, my mistake, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions,” Jody says softly, even as her shoulders slumps by a degree in relief.

               Still keeping her eyes fixed on her nails, Claire asks in a very small voice, “Are you going to call him and tell him I’m here?”

               “Yes, Claire, the law states that I have to,” Jody says, as kindly as she can manage, but Claire isn’t having any of that.

               “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she sneers without looking up from her nails. “Get to make yourself look good so you can get back with him. He’s still in love with my mom, you know!”

               Each word stings like the whip of a lash, and Jody very nearly loses her cool. “What happened between me and your father will have no bearing on your predicament right now,” she says as evenly as she can manage. “But if you talk to me about why you broke into Mrs. Tran store, we might be able to convince her not to press charges. She leans forward, wondering if she dares risk placing a hand on Claire’s knee and then deciding she doesn’t. “Why did you do it? Did someone put you up to it?”

              “Yeah, that’s it,” Claire says dully, like she’s repeated words she’s learned by heart. “It was a stupid dare.”

               Jody almost smiles. “You may be a star student, Claire, but you’re a terrible liar. Now, this is that last time I’ll ask you. Why did you do it?”

               Enough time passes that Jody starts to suspect that Claire inherited her dad’s stubbornness, and that this is all a lost cause, but eventually Claire looks up at Jody, a mouth a thin, angry line. “He told you what happened to my mom, right?”

               Inwardly grimacing, Jody hesitates. “He shared with me some details . . .” she starts cautiously.

               “Well, there was this necklace she used to wear. A small golden cross with a sapphire in the middle. I always planning on asking if she could give me it as a gift when I went to college, but then . . . well, she died.” Claire smirks at Jody’s nonplussed expression. “She was buried in it before I had the chance to nab it.”

               “And there’s a similar or identical necklace in Mrs. Trans shop . . .” Jody fills in with dawning realization, connecting the dots. “Oh, Claire.”

               “I know, I _know_ it was stupid. I didn’t even _think_ , I just had a bad day at school and then I saw it in the window on my way home and – I don’t know – snapped.” Claire scowls, making a noise like an angry cat as she pulls her thin legs up onto the chair so she can rest her head on her knees. “I hated moving here. I can’t even visit her grave anymore. Dad won’t even talk about her anymore. He acts like she doesn’t exist . . .”

 _Goddammit, Jimmy_ , Jody curses, resisting the urge to call him herself right now and demand he talk to his daughter.  

               Claire’s head remains buried in her knees, little sniffs and choked sobs emerging now, and Jody can’t take it any longer. Hang professionalism. Without another word Jody comes to stand behind Claire, sweeping her long blonde hair off her shoulders to rub at Claire’s shuddering back.

               “It’s gonna be okay, Claire,” she assures her, words more coo than anything else. “It gets easier.”

 

              Fifteen minutes later and Jody is just getting off the phone, sighing in heavy relief as she profusely thanks Linda Tran for her time and mercy, personally guaranteeing her that she won’t have any more trouble from Claire in the future.

            “You lucked out this time, hon,” she says bluntly when she exits her office to make her way to where Claire is sitting with Donna. There’s a red mug in Claire’s hands, extra-whipped cream, and Jody once again thanks God for creating the 8th wonder of the world that is Donna Hanscum. “It took some convincing, but so long as you agree to working in hour in her shop every day after school for an hour for the next month, excluding days you have soccer practice, she’ll willing to sweep this all under the table.”

             Claire nods solemnly while Donna cheers beside her, pulling Claire into a one-armed hug. “I understand. I . . . thank you, Jody.” She bites her lip. “And I’m sorry for those really shitty things I said to you. They’re not true, I was just –” Gritting her teeth, she makes a frustrated noise. “Being a real douche-canoe, I guess.”

             Jody makes a vague motion with her hand. “Let bygones be bygones, kiddo. Donna, can you take Claire home, explain to Mr. Novak the circumstances?”

              “Are you _sure_ you don’t –?”

              “Donna.”

             “Okay, okay,” Donna groans dejectedly. “I’ll just go get the car warmed up. Be back in a jiffy”

              Claire makes to follow Donna, but hangs back by the door. “Wait, Jody before I leave, there’s somethings you need to know.”

              “Sure. Hit me with it.”

               Taking a deep breath and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, Claire says, “We haven’t even told Alex yet, but it was me and Krissy who told Principal Milton that that bitch Lilith Masters threw the first punch.”

               “I . . .” Jody has to shake her head to straighten out the sudden onslaught on thoughts pushing to get to the front of her brain. “Claire, that’s – _thank you_.”

               Claire gives her a shy half-smile. “It was no problem. And one other thing –” And here Claire rushes back to Jody, only to whisper breathlessly, “Sheriff Mills –” Then she pauses, licks her lips nervously. “My dad really does misses you. A lot. He won’t talk to me about it, but I can tell. Even Uncle Cas can’t get him to talk.”

               Jody sighs in exhaustion, “Claire, I really don’t think we can –” and then trails off, not even sure how she was going to end that sentence.

               “Just think about it,” she presses. “For both your sakes’.”

               _Could this night get any weirder_? Jody thinks ruefully as she sends Claire Novak.

 

 

             Jody's still mulling over Claire's words, her offer – for that's what it unmistakably has been, an invitation to see Jimmy, a chance to either mend broken fences or make a clean break – when she pulls up the drive that leads to her family's cabin on the outskirts of town, sequestered from the rest of the world with giant spruces and overbearing pine trees that cut out the dim light of the mood. She's just turning off the headlights and stepping out of the car when a ray of golden light spills out from the cabin door and Victor appears in the frame, arms crossed over his broad chest in greeting. Jody sneaks a peek at her watch and grimaces.

             " _One hour, two hours top_ ," Victor mimics in a high falsetto as Jody steps onto the porch, the aged wood creaking with each step. He harrumphs, peering blearily at her with slightly bloodshot eyes. "For your sake, I hope your battery died and you had to get a jump," he says, grumpy with exhaustion. “And that you got stuck behind a five-car pile-up. _And_ popped a tire.”

             Jody shakes her head, smiling thinly. "Nothing exciting as that. We just had a last-minute smash n' grab come in. It's all been sorted out,” she assures, although Victor looks like he couldn’t care less. “Alex asleep yet?"

             Victor looks supremely unimpressed with her excuse, but as he looks as exhausted as Jody feels, he begrudgingly lets the matter slide for another time. "Nope, but she’s inside,” he says succinctly, tilting his head back. “Girl's as pigheaded as you - and that's saying something. Refused to fall asleep until you came home." He shakes his head. “I’ve never sat through many reruns of _Pretty Little Liars_ in my life.”

             “Great,” Jody says with weary sarcasm. “Looks like I’ll have a beast to tame in the morning.”

             “Tread softly and offer a human sacrifice,” Victor advises.

              Chuckling, Jody clasps Victor affectionately on the shoulder as she slips by him. “Thanks again for holding down the fort, Vic. You good to drive or are you about to pass out? Our couch is always open.”

             “Nah, I’m fine.” Victor smiles wanly. “I have enough gas in my tank to make it home.”

              “Alrightie, then. Drive safe, get some sleep. You can take tomorrow off. Sheriff's orders."

              "Don't mind if I do," she hears him say as he walks down the dark porch steps towards his own personal car, a blue Honda Civic. By the light of the glow of the porch lantern above the door, Jody watches Victor get in through the screen door, and she doesn't close and lock up until his taillights vanish into the dark trees. 

              Although the T.V is still on, playing some infomercial on the Shake Weight, the living room is empty, the tiny kitchen that doubles as a dining room, most worryingly off all, Alex's bedroom. Jody’s just beginning to feel a trickle of panic when she finds Alex, unexpectedly, in Jody's own room, perched on her bed. She’s holding something in her hands, and Jody’s heart gives an unexpected lurches when she recognizes the leather-bound photo album that’s sat on the mantel piece for the last several years. It was one of the few things Jody took with her when she moved out of her old home into the cabin in a futile bid to escape memories that were too painful to remember but too precious to forget.

              “Hey, you,” she says softly, so as not to startle Alex, hanging back by the door. “This is pretty late for a school night.”

               Alex looks up at her, with her dark eyes that Jody has always privately thought too old for such a young face. “Yeah, but don’t worry. I got my homework done hours ago. I’ll just be a minute longer, ‘kay?”

               Jody cocks an eyebrow. “Wow,” she says, a little dumbfounded.  “That . . . completely qualified as a mature response. Color me impressed.”

               Instead of the withering glare Jody has come to expect, Alex goes so far as to give her a crooked smile, like light banter between them is the norm. “Don’t strain yourself, Jody. It’s not like I’m going to be joining the dweebs in the honor club anytime soon.”

               The reappearance of Alex’s more characteristic snark has the tension in Jody’s gut easing up a little, although she still feels like she’s walking on a high wire; one wrong word and they’ll both go tumbling over. She enters the room cautiously. “Well, you know what they say, never say never.”

               “ _They_ also say a lot of other dumb stuff, like the early bird gets the worm,” Alex replies dismissively, turning her attention back to the album. “Or time heals all wounds.”

               “That, they do,” Jody says cautiously, picking up on the slightly bitter edge of Alex’s voice. It’s so quiet that she can hear the click of the alarm clock on the bedside table. “Mind if I take a seat?”

               Alex shrugs, eyes still glued to the pages. “It’s your bed.”

               Feeling unexpectedly grateful for being allowed to sit on her own bed, Jody gingerly takes a seat next to Alex, peering over her shoulder at the album. Though she’d prepared herself for what she might see, she still feels a sharp pain in her chest when she sees Sean and Owen on the page, a much-younger Jody among them.

               "This is them, right?" Alex asks her without turning around, her voice uncharacteristically somber. "Your husband and kid."

                Jody sighs heavily, all her exhaustion suddenly catching up with her. "Yep. That's them. Sean and Owen." She leans forward, peering harder. “Oh, I remember that,” she says quietly, wistfully, looking down at the photo of the small boy with skinned knees and a purple lunchbox, staring dolefully up at the camera. “That was Owen’s first day of kindergarten. He refused to go if he couldn’t bring his favorite dinosaur toy, which just so happened to have mysteriously disappear the night before. Sean spent all night all night looking for it, only to find it under the washing machine.” She touches two gentle fingers to the photo, slowly sliding them back and forth in much the same manner as she had when she would push Owen’s hair back from his face. _Look how handsome you are today_ , she’d say, and he would smile big dimples back at her. “Needless to say,” she chuckles, voice brittle, “Owen was a little mad his brilliantly thought-out plan had fallen through.”

               Alex chuckles briefly with Jody, and it pains something inside Jody that she and Owen will never meet. She already knows the story of how Jody went to bed a wife and mother only to wake up a childless widow. 

               “You look happy,” Alex observe, too casual to not put Jody on edge. “Why don’t you ever talk about them?”

               Startled and more than a little confused by the out-of-left-field question, Jody cautiously asks, “Do you _want_ me to talk about them more?”

               She can see Alex chewing on the inside of her mouth, as though mulling over what response she thinks Jody wants to hear.

               “’Cause I will if you want me to, sweetheart,” Jody says hastily while still trying to figure out what's going on in that head of hers. “All you have to do is ask.”

                That seems to be the right response, because Alex takes a deep breath and nods, even as she seems to steel herself. “Okay . . . If they hadn’t die, if they were still alive, would you still have adopted me?”

               “Oh, sweetie,” Jody cries out sadly. “Come here.” Miraculously, Alex allows herself held in Jody’s loose embrace, resting her temple on Jody’s collarbone. Will wonders never cease? “Where has all this come from?”

                “I dunno. _Honest_ ,” she insists when she catches Jody’s skeptical look. “You just seemed so out of it lately, and at first I thought you were just PMSing –”

                 “Gee, thanks,” Jody mutters sarcastically into Alex’s dark hair, and she can feel the shape of Alex’s brief smile against her skin.

                  “Sorry, I really am trying not to be a jerk this time. Promise. But then I realized you had stopped looking at your phone . . . Tell me the truth, Jody, did you break up with Mr. Novak because of me?”

               “Okay, first all of, that’s ridiculous,” Jody says, a little more sharply than she intended, pulling back to make sure Alex can see here face. She tips Alex's chin towards her. "Second of all, I'm _am_ happy now, with you. Don't ever think different. Jimmy Novak, nor any other man for that matter, enters into that equation at all. He's just a bonus."

                "So why'd you break up."

                Jody shrugs. "Because I was scared," she answered honestly. "Because he was scared too. Because somehow we ended up running away from each instead of towards. She sighs tragically, laying her forearm against  her face. “Go ahead, tell me. I’m an idiot.”

               “No, I . . . I get it. Sometimes running away seems like the best option," Alex responds pensively. “It's kinda of my thing after all. . . You should call him."

               “Yeah, your friend Claire said just as much,” Jody sighs ruefully, disbelieving that she’s getting dating advice from teenagers. “In the meantime, how about I tell you about the time Sean and Owen nearly got carried off by a swarm of geese at the park.

               Alex gives her a lopsided smile, and it's so reminiscent of the Alex Jody had seen in the school parking lot that it nearly steals her breath away. “I’d like that, Jody.”

               


	5. Chapter 5

 

                After weeks of wallowing in self-pity and allowing her life to spin its tires, Jody suddenly finds herself unable to stand another second of inactivity. But as she very well can’t show up at one in the morning at Jimmy’s doorstep in her robe and slippers, she forces herself to hold out a little while longer. If she wanted to get really sappy and Hallmark about it, she could say she's been waiting years for Jimmy to walk into her life, so what's a few more days?  

                 Jody waits until that Saturday to hop into the patrol car – sans uniform – and head out to the other side of town to the address Claire gave her via Alex's phone, closer to the suburbs of Sioux Falls. She grinds her teeth as she keeps to the precise speed limit, and she finds herself contemplating whether turning the lights and sirens on would be worth the risk. The possibility of having to be pulled over by _Garth_ of all people quickly kills the urge.

                Sweaty palms sticking to the wheel, she’s so nervous that she drives right by the turn-off twice, feverishly thankful that no one was around to see her make that  _extremely_  illegal U-turn, and on the third time around, she slows to a near snail-crawl as she passes by neatly trimmed lawns and pale-colored houses, homes like the one she herself lived in once upon a time, keeping a close eye on the numbers on the mailboxes. 126 . . . 128 . . . 130.

              And there it is. The little red brick house at the corner, an old ponderosa pine dominating most of the yard. A rather impressive garden wraps around the front, blooming with flowers of all shapes and colors, and of course she can't help but wonder how much of a hand Jimmy had in coaxing this magnificent display of botany to life. Three cars are parked front to bumper in its modest driveway: a great black beast of a machine that is probably worth a pretty penny (though Jody admittedly knows dick about vintage cars), Jimmy’s shabby-looking ’09 Elantra, and a pale gold car that has Jody raising a critical eyebrow. Riding low to the ground, the garish boat of a car would look far more at home in the impound lot after arresting some two-bit pimp and certainly not in the middle of white suburbia. 

               The other two cars must belong to Jimmy’s brother and boyfriend, a thought that brings her up short and makes her wonder what the hell she thinks she's doing here, showing up unannounced on a Saturday morning. All she has is Claire's word, and although it seemed that after the other night Claire no longer resented her, who can tell with teenagers? Wouldn't it be a fine thing if Jody just barged into family brunch? Or worse, Jimmy isn't even home, and Jody may never get her chance to say her piece. 

               Before she can have a panic attack and plow the cruiser into Mrs.’s 132’s flock of plastic pink flamingos, Jody pulls up to the curb several houses down from Jimmy's and cuts the engine. She's gonna need a few minutes to get her head on straight, because despite being her only source of transportation, parking the cruiser directly in front of the house would have been like putting a giant neon sign in the front lawn to announce her presence. Already, she can see curtains moving in the adjacent houses' windows, curious onlookers probably wondering what the hell would make the Sheriff of Sioux Falls show up on their sleepy road at this hour.

               Jody inhales once, deeply, and them expels it all deeply in a rush.  

               One minute passes on the digital clock on the dash, then two. Her breathing has evened out, and Jody knows she's merely stalling at the point, but she can't quite make her limbs obey her orders.

 _What in the world am I doing_?, Jody thinks to herself anxiously, staring at the red brick house. Funnily enough, it's the same thought Jody had the day before she took Alex into her home and welcomed her as part of her family. She'd had no idea at the time whether she and Alex would be able to make it work, or if she would wake up one morning to find Alex's bed empty, shoes gone and no note to be found. But even though they've had their ups and downs (Lord, how they have had their downs), Jody has never regretted her decision, not when she gets to see the light in Alex's eyes return just a little bit more with each passing day. 

              So is it worth it for Jody to take this same chance with Jimmy? Is it even possible for them to take the jagged pieces of themselves, broken by the ones they've lost, and fit them together to create something new without cutting the other? Because this is more than just the two of them, this could eventually be about Alex and even Claire. So yeah, damn right Jody's scared, she'll admit it - scared they'll give it a go only to fail spectacularly, leaving her and Alex alone again – and scared that it  _will_  work and she'll be farther away from Sean and Owen than ever before. It scares the living hell out of her just how easily she allowed herself to be sucked into Jimmy Novak’s orbit, how easily she began to care and to feel and to fall, but most importantly to _want_.

              Because when Jody had watched in amazement as Jimmy looked Alex straight in the eye from the very first moment and offered her his hand, treating her not like the damaged goods the rest of the world saw her as but like the strong, confident woman she would become, she had seen a future. A life where they were not separate pieces of Jody’s life but rather connected. Equal. Together. And God, she wanted to hold on tight to the possibility and never let go, dammit, she wants to try -

               When her cell phone chirps, Jody nearly bumps her head against the roof of the cruiser. “ _Son of a monkey’s uncle . . .”_ She fumbles for her phone, nearly managing to drop it between the crevice of her seat and the door twice, and when she checks the screen, she feels her throat swell up thick with emotion. “I'll be damned . . .”

              It's from Alex, just two words:  _Good luck_

Well, then. That settles it. Jody's certainly never been prone to superstitions or reading too closely into things, but she figures that for once, she can graciously accept a sign when it falls into her lap. Really, at this point, she'd kind of be an idiot not to. 

              Pausing only to wipe furiously at her eyes (because she really doesn’t want to show up unannounced on Jimmy’s doorstep looking like an overly emotional raccoon) she steps out of the cruiser onto the still dewy grass and locks up behind her. Last thing she needs now is to come back to her car after whatever happens with Jimmy happens only to find out some kid has gone on a joy ride with the Sheriff's car.

              With measured steps Jody walks down the street to the red brick house, passing by its assortment of cars, and right up the carefully maintained path to the front door. This close to the garden, the air is fragrant with a heady aroma, of lilac and hyacinth and half a dozen more her untrained nose can’t distinguish from.

               She rings the doorbell before she can talk herself out of it, and just like that she’s leapt past the point of no return.

               As she waits, Jody nervously flattens down the fringe of her bangs, uncomfortably aware that she just barely took a shower and threw on some clothes before rushing over here. Hell, do her socks even match -? Oh. They do. Never mind, then . . . Wait, what is she even going to  _say_. . .? Maybe she should have called first, sent a telegram ahead to announce her arrival, _something_ –

               Without warning the front door swings open - and there Jimmy is, squinting at Jody with eyes still gummy from sleep, looking not at all happy to have been summoned to his front door at this hour.

               Maybe it’s a good thing that Jody didn't have a prepared speech or anything, because all coherent thought goes flying out the window when Jody finds herself face-to-face with a Jimmy in a state of undress practically indecent compared to the clean-cut clothing she always sees him in. And, just -  _God_. She’s staring, she realizes - how could she  _not_? - at his normally neatly combed dark hair now in a state of wild disarray like he just rolled out of bed, jaw unshaven to frame his pink lips, and a tantalizing strip of taunt skin peeking out through a pair of striped pajama bottoms and a gray t-shirt with Garfield scowling on the front. 

               He's so beautiful it makes her ache in places Jody thought were done hurting.

               And she’s still staring. And judging by his increasingly concerned expression, it’s now way past the point where she should have said something.

              "Hi!" she exclaims much too loudly for the sleepy suburban street, breathless like she's just run a mile, because apparently she doesn't seem to be done making a complete fool out of herself.

              ". . . Hello," Jimmy returns cautiously, looking more than a little befuddled, but given her unannounced visit, who can blame him? His voice is noticeably rougher, she observes absently, which makes Jody wonder if he’s coming down with a cold. Now that she thinks about it, there are now pale-purple shadows underneath his eyes, and it makes Jody shamefully hope that Jimmy has also spent sleepless nights missing her too.

            She raises her hands in entreaty. "Okay, so, look, before you tell me to scram, just let me say my piece and then I'll be out of your hair," she says quickly. She's painfully aware of how her heart is knocking about in her chest like a shoe stuck in a dryer. "Deal?" 

            "Uh . . ." It all must have come out a little too fast for him to follow with complete comprehension, but at least Jimmy doesn't look like he's about the slam the door in her face, so Jody counts that as a partial win. "Okay?"

             Jody nods her thanks, brave enough to offer a hesitant smile. It's a start, at least. "That's all I'm asking for. Listen, I'm . . ." Jody loses her steam for a moment, shakes her head. She chuckles ruefully. “Where do I even start?” Under Jimmy’s concerned gaze she pulls herself together, tries again. "I'm sorry, okay? I was such a - such a  _jerk_  the other night, and I was being stupid. So  _incredibly_  stupid I shouldn't have pushed you into sharing about Amelia before you were ready. That was unfair of me, especially under the circumstances. It's not like you own me an explanation or anything." She utters a hoarse, slightly hysterical-sounding laugh, and immediately cringes.

              Jimmy blinks, nonplussed. "Amelia?"

              "It's just that for so long,” Jody continues, plowing forward before Jimmy stops her and she loses her nerve, “it's just been me, okay? It’s been five years since I lost Sean and Owen, and I didn’t have any other family to help me move on, so I guess I forgot what it’s like to have to wear that armor against the outside world every day so they can’t see my grief. Not that that's any excuse for my behavior, it just -" She wonders if she dares reach out and take his hand. She decides she doesn't. "I just wanted to let you know that you're not as alone as you think, Jimmy. You have Claire, and you'll have me - if-if you would be interested in that sort of thing," she ends lamely. She takes a breath, forces herself to keep her gaze on his instead of the safer area of his chest. "So what’d’ya say, can we start over from the beginning?"

              Jimmy doesn't reply immediately, and each awkward second he spends silently staring at her risks Jody sweating through her shirt. When he finally does speak, it's with slow and deliberate care. "I think there's been some sort of mistake." He looks distinctly uncomfortable as he says it, and Jody can feel her heart sink somewhere in the vicinity of her shoes. 

              "Oh," Jody says in a very small voice. When the ground does not do her the courtesy of swallowing her up on the spot, she shakes herself out of it, clearing her throat gruffly. "Well, I'm glad we've got that settled. I'll just - just be on way then. Have a good afternoon -"

              She's just about to make her hasty retreat with her tail tucked between legs when Jimmy hastily calls out, "No, wait, you don't understand. I'm not Jimmy."

             "Eh? Well, whatever Jody had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been that. She turns on the spot, glaring at the man-who-is-Jimmy-but-apparently-isn't. "Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

             The man opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, another voice, brash and loud, hollers from somewhere in the house. " _Cas! You've seen my pants_?" 

             Jody capes at the dark-haired man in front of her, jaw on the floor. " _You're_  Cas?" Jody absently remembers riding around with Jimmy in her car weeks ago, and Jimmy telling her in passing that he was living with his brother for the time being.  _What_  Jimmy had very much failed to mention that Cas was more than just a brother - he was Jimmy's  _twin_. One who Jody has been ogling for the better part of the last five minutes. 

             "They're in the washing machine, Dean," Cas calls back over his shoulder. He turns back to Jody. "Hm? Oh, yes, I'm Castiel. And you must be Jody." He smiles tentatively, a smile to match Jimmy's. "Jimmy's told me a lot about you." His brow furrows. "I can't recall him mentioning you would be dropping by for lunch today. I can go get him if you -"

               He's rudely interrupted when when another man - also tall and broad, except with short, sandy hair - comes crashing through, thankfully with pants. "Hey, babe, hurry up, I want to get some breakfast - oh hey." He blinks at Jody. "Who invited the cops?"

             "Dean, this is Jody Mills," Castiel says by way of introduction. 

             "Oh." Dean's face split into a lascivious grin. "Jimmy's best girl." 

            Feeling out of her element and off-kilter enough as it is, it takes longer than it usually would for Jody to realize this is not her first time meeting Dean. Some sort of sixth sense has her doing a double-take, though, and she peers hard at the Dean, trying to place his face. "Do I know you from somewhere?" she asks bluntly.

            If the immediate shifty expression wasn’t a big enough tip-off, then Dean’s suddenly cagey posture is. "Uh . . .” He shifts on his feet, his gaze skittering away and then back. “No?"

            "No, no, give me a minute . . . yeah, it's coming to me now. Didn't I arrest you last month for a drunk and disorderly?"

            “Which was a bogus charge, by the way!" Dean fires back hotly.

             Jody scoffs. "You were drunkenly singing - very off-key, I might add - to Right Said Fred, and you threatened anyone who tried to take the mike away from you. You were trying to hump the mike stand when we finally carted you off."

             "Hey, now just wait a minute, my singing’s fucking fantastic I’ll have you know and you can just–” Dean starts, stepping forward, but he's saved from doing anything stupid by Castiel, who wraps his arms around Dean's middle and pulls him back tightly, smiling serenely at Jody.

             "Please allow me to explain, Sherriff Mills. What happened was that Dean and I had regrettably been going through a rough patch at that moment in time, and Dean unwisely chose to drink his troubles away that night. But I'm happy to report that he hasn't drank to excess since then, and he's _very sorry,_  aren't you, Dean?" Castiel says, with a very pointed look at Dean.

              Dean looks like he's very much anything but, after Castiel spears him with a rather impressive set of puppy-eyes, Dean rolls his eyes and mumbles out, “Yeah, ‘m."

              Jody exhales sharply, patience nearing the breaking point. "O-kay. I can't tell you guys how much fun this has been, but if you could go and get Jimmy right now that'd be great. I'd really need to speak to him before I leave."

              "There's no need," a new voice calls out, and Castiel and Dean shift to the side to make room for Jimmy to hesitantly shuffling into the doorframe, Claire clinging to his side. Jody can only stare mutely as she finds face-to-face with Jimmy for the first time in weeks, at the purple shadows of his hazy blue eyes, and several days’ worth of stubble growth on his face. _He looks like I feel_ , Jody thinks, taking no pleasure in the thought. “I’m, ah, already here, obviously.”

              "Hey, Jody," Claire greets as though they’re old friends. "Glad you could make it," to which Jimmy raises an eyebrow at her.

              “Uh, hi, Claire.”

               "You and I are going to talk about this later," Jimmy informs Claire, and Claire rolls her eyes, unabashed. "In the meantime, could you three please excuse Jody and me for a moment? We have a lot to catch up on and I don’t want any comments from the peanut gallery."

               “It’s okay, Dad,” Claire informs him breezily, already squeezing past to make her way for the driveway. . “Uncle Cas and Dean already promised to take me to the movies today, and then go mini-golfing afterwards. We’ll be gone for at least three hours, but if that’s not enough, leave a sock on the door.”

               Jimmy squeezes his eyes shut in mortification. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”

               Castiel coughs something that sounds suspiciously like _Dean._

               After shooting a betrayed look at Cas, Dean clasps Jimmy on the shoulder. "Go get 'er, tiger," he says before scurrying away when he spots the murderous look Jody gives him. Castiel gives her an encouraging smile before he too leaves, and Claire gives her a thumbs up. Jody and Jimmy watch in silence as the three pile into the black car and speed away with a grumbling growl.

               “I think you’ve just been conspired against,” Jody says superfluously.

              "So it would seem,” Jimmy says heavily before turning all his attention on Jody. He offers her a weak smile, a little bashful and sheepish, like a child that knows it’s about to be punished. “Hey, Jody.”

             "Hey there, Jimmy. So, uh. . . .” she starts awkwardly, rubbing furiously at her reddening neck. "Did you by chance catch any of that, or am I gonna have to go through all of that again?” She grimaces at the thought; it was bad enough the first time.

              “I heard enough." For a moment all he does is stare at her, but then he takes a deep breath and his face splits into a smile, a real one this time and he offers her his hand. "Would you like to come in?"

              Jody puts her hands on her hips. "That depends. Were you ever going to clue me in onto the fact that your brother is your  _twin -_ which you failed to mention the first time - or were you content to let me make a complete ass of myself?" she hisses, her anger, always near the surface lately, flaring from simmering to white hot in the space of second.

              It’s Jimmy’s turn to grimace in chagrin, but at least he does appear deeply contrite. "I really am sorry for that. I have this whole hang-up about bringing up the ‘I have a twin’ thing in casual conversation. And other times I forget I’m not in Pontiac anymore and then not everyone and their grandma knows about Cas and me. I sweat, though, Jody I was going to tell you eventually I swear.” He stops like it does no good, shaking his head wearily in defeat. “It wasn’t my intention to make Cas run interference for me.”

              Jody takes a moment to think that over, still not quite over the fact of Jimmy having a twin, and one so obviously different at that. “He seems nice,” she offers up eventually, an olive branch. Quietly, with a conspiratorial smirk, she adds, “But I think I see what you mean about obnoxious couples.”

              Jimmy gives a short, nervous laugh, like he’s trying extra hard so as not to scare Jody away. “Oh, you should see those two jackasses on Family Game Night. They both team up against me and Claire and either whoop our butts and brag about it for weeks on end or lose spectacularly and bitch about it for the entire night.”

              Jody smiles to herself at the rather sweet family picture Jimmy paints, but guilt quickly sours it, and she inwardly sighs, determined to just get this over with even when she wants nothing more than to sink into Jimmy’s embrace and bury everything under the rug. But that’s not what she’s here to do. “Jimmy, I –” She stops, runs a frustrated hand through her hair. “About the other night . . . I just wanted to say I’m so sor–”           

              "Oh, no," Jimmy protests abruptly, loudly enough to startle Jody. "No, no, no. There’s no way I’m going to let you apologize –”

               Jody’s eyebrows nearly ascend into her hairline. “ _Excuse_ me –?”

              “–Not when I'm the one who should be sorry,” he continues, b, looking like he won’t stop until he either says his piece or Jody socks him. “You’re right, you’re absolutely right about me. I've been nothing but dishonest with you from the start, I'm the one who can't let go of my past, my _anger_ –”

             “Okay, fair enough, but _I’m_ the one who came over here,”  Jody points out, trying and failing miserably to keep her cool and not get caught up in trite principles. “If I just wanted your apologies, I wouldn’t be here. What I want is for you to help us move past it –”

              “But you’re not the only one I’m hurting, Jody!” he exclaims, borderline hysterical now. “Look at Claire, look at how she’s lashed out because of me – I mean, she’s broke into someone’s store, for Christ sakes.

             “Oh for the love of –” Seeing nothing else for it, Jody takes Jimmy’s face in her hands, pulling him in to press her lips squarely against his. It’s brief, the most perfunctory of kisses, but it does its job and shuts Jimmy right the hell up.

             Eyes wide as dinner plates, Jimmy blinks once, twice. “Uh, what was that for?”

              “To get you to listen for five goddamn seconds, you infuriating man,” she exclaims, resisting the urge to give him a good shake.

               “Well, when you put it that way, I’m all ears,” Jimmy manages with a weak grin.

               “I meant what I said before. You’re not alone, Jimmy. You have me, and I want us to make this work _together_. I want you to be honest with me, but furthermore I want you to _trust_ me.”

                "I do, Jody, I do trust you,” Jimmy says earnestly, resting his palms on the back of Jody’s hands where they still clutch at Jimmy’s face like a lifeline. “I swear I'm done letting the past follow me around. I'm going to be a new man for you, and for Claire – and for Alex, if you let me."

              "That's all I ask," Jody says softly.

               They stand out there on Jimmy’s front lawn, foreheads resting as they breathe in tandem, long enough that the first drops of rain break free from the iron-gray clouds overhead.  “We should move inside,” Jody suggests quietly, even as she snuggles in closer against Jimmy, shivering as his hands move down her shoulders to palm her hips.

               “Hmm. I’ve got a better idea.”

               “Yeah, what’s that?”

               “You give me the opportunity to show you what a real kiss is,” he murmurs in a throaty whisper, warmth breath tickling Jody’s ear. She allows her face to be tipped up, his thumb following the curve of her cheek.

                You’d think that after a lifetime of kisses – the very first kiss, the wedding kiss, the ‘have a good day at work’ kiss – first kisses would lose some of their shine, a small appetizer to the main event. Yet Jody finds that as she presses her lips to Jimmy’s, opening just enough to lick the swell of his top lip, first kisses are the best precisely because they’re a celebration of every single kiss had and to have, melancholy for the life left behind, and jubilant for the life ahead.


	6. Chapter 6

 

**_One year later_ **

 

             “This doesn’t look right. Shouldn’t there be . . . I don’t know, more palm trees or something?”

             Jody laughs. “This is _Pacific Northwest,_ Jimmy,” she points out, not unkindly. “If we start seeing palm trees now, then you’ve made one heck of a wrong turn.” One arm is resting against the back of his headrest, and it’s nothing at all for Jody to reach up and gently run her hand through his hair, her fingers playing teasingly with the thick dark strands. She laughs again when he leans in her hand like a cat. The sun shines through the car window, a balmy breeze drifting in through the crack as they drive on.

             “I _told_ you guys Google maps would have been better,” Claire chimes in smugly from the backseat, her flip-flops pressed up against the back of Jody's seat. From the rearview mirror, Jody can see Alex lean over to whisper something into Claire’s ear, and soon the girls dissolve into a fit of cackling.

             "Hey, girls, no making fun of your chauffeur, okay?" Jimmy scolds mildly from behind his red one-dollar Mickey Mouse sunglasses that he got just because their very existence offended all three girls.  "I can still leave you on the side of the road at anyyyytime."

              "That's fine," Alex says placidly without looking up from whatever it is Claire is now showing her on her phone. "Me and Claire will just get jobs as waitresses at some tiny seaside crabshack and meet hot blonde locals that teach us how to surf and smoke pot." 

               "I didn't know you and Krissy were in an open relationship," Claire exclaims with a significant look at Alex, and they fall into a fit of giggling again, louder than the first time.

               "I'm not listening to this, la la la, _I'm not listening_!" Jimmy declares loudly, talking one hand off the wheel to slap it against his ear.

               "Girls, go easy on him," Jody says, patting Jimmy on the arm consolingly. "Your father is a very sensitive soul."

               "Yes, I am," Jimmy sniffs. 

                "Sorry, Dad," Claire says, still giggling.

               "Yeah, sorry, Jimmy," Alex says, amused, but not sarcastic. It warms Jody's heart, seeing how far she's come. It's been a good year for her.

                _It's been a good year for all of us_ , Jody thinks, tilting her hand so the modest diamond ring on her hand catches the light of the sun.

               "It's alright, girls. What's another gray hair on my head?" Jimmy sighs despondently. "At least I'll have hair on my head, yeah?"

               "I should hope so," Jody says, continuing to card her hand down Jimmy's scalp. "I would hate for you to go bald before fifty."

                "Oh, God, so gross," Claire groans, pulling a face as she pops one earbud back into her ear, its companion already in Alex's. "Please tell me you guys aren't going to be like this all day."

                "Only for three-quarters of it," Jody promises. "Maybe half."

               "Hmm. Better make the most of it, then," Jimmy says thoughtfully before leaning over in his seat, Jody turning her head just in time to catch the big wet smooch he plants on her, her chin cupped in his large palm. With her eyes briefly slipping closed, she can barely hear are the indignant shrieks and sputters of protests in the backseat over Jimmy's soft breathing. Brushing his thumb over her cheek, Jimmy says, "On second thought, maybe all day."

               "You guys are terrible," Alex moans, unsuccessfully hiding a smile.

               "And turnabout's a witch," Jimmy says unapologetically, giving Jody one last peck before returning to the part of responsible driver, hands firmly on ten-and-two.

               "I'm not ten anymore, Dad. You can say bi-"

               "Keep your eyes on the road, Casanova," Jody interjects, looking over at Claire, who playfully sticks her tongue out at Jody. "Last thing we want is to make squirrel pancakes on the road."

               Jimmy's face breaks into a nose-crinkling grin. "Yes, ma'am."

               It's another twenty minutes of driving through a lonely, increasingly bumpy road, shafts of variegated breaking their way through the boughs of giant conifer trees, and Jody's just about to kindly ask Jimmy if perhaps he _did_ take a wrong turn back at that gas station they stopped at and maybe they should turn around when -

              “No, wait – Dad, I see! I see it!” Claire calls, scrambling to shove herself between Jody and Jimmy's seats to point excitedly out the window (and when did she take her seat belt off?). "Alex, look!"

              And sure enough, there's a break in the treeline, bringing the car to a small but well-manicured parking lot adjacent to a pavilion with picnic benches. _Kalaloch Beach_ , a little sign reads. A modest path cuts down from the parking lot to a coarse, sandy beach, and there - there's the Pacific Ocean, stretching wide and blue with white-capped waves. 

               Jody doesn't realize she's staring with her mouth slightly agape until she feels a hand cover her own, and she startles and glances over, she sees Jimmy watching her intently with warm, soft eyes. Never before has Jody been more sure that _everything_ had been worth it than in that moment. 

               There's a lot she could say in that moment, but none of them seem quite adequate, so instead Jody settles with, "Last one to the water is a rotten egg."

                "Oh, you're on," Alex says.

                The moment Jimmy parks the car, Alex and Claire scramble from their seats, shrieking in unison as they run pell-mell towards the beach, flip-slops slapping on the pavement, their towls fluttering like flags in their wake.

                 "Claire, Alex, don't forget to put on sunscreen!" Jimmy calls out the window. "Just because there's some cloud cover doesn't mean you still can't - They can't even hear me anymore, can they?"

                 "Oh, I think they're way past that," Jody laughs, rummaging in the back for her floppy sunhat that she's still not sure if Donna got her as a joke or not, and the large picnic blanket. Jody steps out of the car, breathing in deeply of the salty sea air. The wind definitely carries a cool edge to it, but it's more nip than bite, while Jody privately thinks Claire and Alex are brave for putting bikinis on, Jody is just fine in her sundress, thank you very much. 

                  "Ready?" Jimmy calls over as he pulls out the cooler from Old Faithful's trunk. In answer Jody entwines her fingers with his free hand, and once Jimmy locks up they make their way down towards the beach.

                  When they arrive Alex and Claire are already in the tide, gamboling about, yelping as the cool waters brush past their ankles or when one splashes the other in the face. She and Jimmy pick their way carefully down towards them, careful not to catch the wheels of the cooler on the smooth stones and pebbles. They pick a spot just far enough away that they won't have to move if high tide comes in, Jimmy leaving for a moment to collect the girls clothes where they'd carelessly discarded them while Jody spreads the blanket on the ground. After a moment Jody decides there's not enough sun to warrant the floppy hat (thank God), so Jody discards it as she settles down on the blanket, humming in pleasure when Jimmy settles behind her, a line of heat down her back and around her front as his muscle-packed arms encircle waist. The wind ruffles their hair as they watch Alex and Claire chasing each other through the water, gray-tinged clouds settling low over the waves that reflect a full spectrum of colors. Jody toys with the idea of getting up to get her camera, but decides it can wait. This is where she belongs right now. 

                  "Sorry for the late honeymoon, love," Jimmy whispers into her ear, gently pulling back a lock of her hair. 

                 Smiling softly, Jody turns in the circle of Jimmy's arms to nuzzle against the warm skin of his neck, touching her lips to the pulse of his heart. "Better late than never."

 

 

 


End file.
